Staying Gold
by Lovetoread75
Summary: Ponyboy graduated from college. Now he is a social worker. He remembers how bad social workers had been when he was growing up. They never cared, but they judged. He decided to be a different kind of social worker, the one that really makes a difference. Follow him on his journey as he struggles with his new role and tries to get his patients trust. Johnny and Dally are alive.
1. Chapter 1

It was a bright September morning. The air was crisp and light, a quiet breeze moved the leaves on the trees that were yellow-red in the Fall. My desk was by the window, and I was able to see how the breeze was playing with the red and yellow leaves outside.

I was sitting in my brand new office in the Social Services clinic, on the East side. I've been on the job for about a month. After my internship I was mostly assigned to do paperwork, but today I was getting my first patient. I felt my stomach muscles tighten up and my palms starting to sweat. This was nerve racking. First impressions are everything, I thought and I was nervous. Sure I'd done this before during my internship, but then I wasn't alone. I was with my mentor.

After high school I went to Oklahoma state university and enrolled in social work program. I remembered many social workers that we had growing up and how much we hated them and they deserved it. I also remembered stories of terrible social workers I heard from Curly and other guys and I thought how much easier it would've been if we had somebody on our side. How desperately people from our neighborhood needed real help. I thought how Dally might not have been so bitter and hopeless if someone had talked to him or gave him some options in life and how Johnny may not be so scared or helpless if someone would just help him without judging. I realized our side of town desperately needed good, caring, understanding social workers and I was hoping to be just that.

In college I met my girlfriend Jenna. She is a journalist. These days we are renting an apartment on the East side. I decided not to move away from my neighborhood that way I would related better to my patients, and they will know that I'm just one of them.

So now I had to face my first patient. I opened his file – Taylor Williams, sixteen arrested for car theft and now on parole, needs to be assigned to community service. It was time. I went into the waiting room, trying to calm my nerves down. "Taylor Williams," I called out, wiping my sweaty palms on my jacket when nobody was looking. Next I saw a young guy get up from the seat. "That's me," he offered lazily, while looking up at me from under his bangs.

"Please follow me," I instructed, trying to sound confident and walking down the hallway. The guy looked tough, no doubt he was a greaser. He had long brown hair heavily greased, he was wearing a white t-shirt a jean jacket and jeans, a pack of cigarettes rolled up his sleeve. He was tall and had broad shoulders. He walked next to me with a swagger in his walk.

We walked into the office and I motioned for him to take a seat. He sat down, arms crossed. "So what do I got to do?" he asked lazily, reclining in the chair before I even had a chance to introduce myself. "I'm Ponyboy Curtis, I'll be your social worker," I introduced myself and held my hand out for him to shake it. He ignored my hand and gave me a stare. I realized this was a reaction to my name. This saying my name for the first time was getting old. "Yes this is my real name," I said smiling, making sure he doesn't realize how much this was bothering me. "My dad must've had a sense of humor." He tried to appear indifferent, but he cracked a small smile.

"So make it short" he said gruffly, running his fingers through his hair, "Tell me what I got to do so I could get out of here." I definitely didn't like his attitude, but I expected it and that's what made me so nervous. People like Taylor hated social workers and they had a good reason for that. It was up to me to prove to Taylor and others that I was different, that I was the real deal.

"So what do I got to do?" Taylor repeated in a bored, but impatient voice.

"You want to tell me a little bit about yourself first?" I looked him right in the eyes.

"Nope," he croaked meeting my gaze and leaning back in his chair and then added "Can I smoke in here?" I hesitated a moment, then thought what a hell. "Go ahead," I said trying to sound friendly. He took the pack out and lit up.

"What's the deal with stealing cars?" I asked carefully, hoping that maybe he'll open up a little now that I let him smoke.

"What's that to you? I was told I got a choice of service." He replied taking a long drag on his cigarette.

Disappointed, I realized I wasn't going to get much out of him. At least not yet so I cut to the chase. "Ok you got two choices: one is a soup kitchen you have a choice to prep or serve the food. The second is to read to the elderly in a nursing home." Taylor wrinkled is nose – "That's it?"

"That's it," I nodded flipping through the pages of his file just to be doing something.

"Ok, I pick the soup kitchen." He said reluctantly, shaking the ashes of his cigarette right on the desk. How obnoxious, I thought. He reminded me so much of some of the kids that I grew up with. Maybe Curly or even Dally – tough kids who had a real issue with authority.

I cleared my throat - "Ok fill out this form and bring it with you," I gave him the form, "You start Monday, the address and the phone number is on the top of the form."

"Ok," Taylor lazily stretched his arm and took the form, "can I go now?" He exhaled annoyed – the smoke filling up the space between us.

"Sure," I said, "but before you do I'd like to let you know that there is a program run by the state, it's a training program for a mechanic job. So instead of stealing cars you could be working on them and making money and you don't have to pay a dime." He looked surprised for a second like he was surprised I was being nice to him, then his expression of disdain was back on his face – "whatever," he said through clenched teeth.

"If you have questions or you need help with anything call me, here's my card." He took the card like he was doing me a favor, then got up and exited the room without saying "good bye" or God forbid a "thank you." I leaned into the chair after he left and tried to relax. That didn't go too well, I thought closing his file. I was disappointed. I needed a cigarette myself.

In a few minutes the phone rang. "Social services, Ponyboy Curtis speaking." There was a brief silence on the other side. I was sure it was a reaction to my name and at that point I hated it. Then "hello?" A weak woman voice said.

"Hello, how can I help you ma'am?" Again silence, then a sob – "it's my niece she wouldn't come out of the closet."

"What?" I asked confused, "where are her parents?" Another sob – "she lives with us, her mother, well my sister, she killed herself and she was a single mother so my niece lives with us now. She's only seven and she's been in the closet the whole day, she wouldn't eat or talk to any of us tell us what's wrong."

"I'll be right there," was all I said and quickly wrote down the address as she told me.

I grabbed the car keys, told the secretary where I was going and left. I felt very nervous. This was serious, this wasn't just a conversation with just another defiant teenager like Taylor. This was someone in real trouble. On my way there I mentally pictured different scenarios of what I may do or say to make the girl get out of the closet. I did smoke a cigarette even though I tried to cut back on those these days.

In about 25 minutes I was at the address the woman had given me. Here we go I braced myself and got out of the car. Hesitantly I walked up the stairs and rang the bell. A woman opened the door. She was middle aged with some graying hair tucked behind her ears. She was short and chubby her blue eyes red from crying. "Hi, I am Ponyboy," I held out my hand.

"I am Patricia, please come in," she offered and then sobbed. "She's in that room," she pointed to the room and sobbed.

"What's the girl's name?" I asked walking towards the room.

"Emily," she replied walking behind me.

I took a few shaky steps inside the room. I had no idea what I was going to say or do. All the scenarios that I was thinking of before while I was in the car seemed so inadequate now. It was dark in the room and the room was pretty small, a large closet in the corner. I heard some movement in the closet. "Hi, Emily are you in there?" I started and thought to myself how pathetic. Of course she's in there, I know she's in there. "Hi Emily," I tried again, "I am Ponyboy, your aunty called me to ask you what's wrong. Said you wouldn't tell her. Will you tell me what's wrong sweetie?" I don't know where the right words came from, but it seemed I was doing ok. There was a rustling sound in the closet. Then a small sound like laughter through crying.

"You have a funny name."

"I know, I am a funny guy too, will ya come out and tell me what's wrong, please?" - dead silence, "please," I repeated walking up closer to the closet. Then the closet door opened a crack and she looked at me, then at her aunt. "Tell her to go away," she whispered to me. "You don't want your aunty here?" I asked surprised, she shook her head and closed the closet door. I looked at Patricia, "fine," she said reluctantly, "I'll leave." and with that she left the room.

"Hey Emily, honey," I said in as soothing voice as I could muster, "your aunty is not here anymore, will you come out?" The closet door opened up a crack again and then Emily stuck her head out. Then she hesitantly got out. She was short and small for her age, with short auburn hair and brown eyes that were red from crying and tears marks were visible on her cheeks.

"What is it honey? Why'd you lock yourself in the closet?" She looked down and said something so quietly I couldn't make out what she was saying.

"What is it I couldn't hear you." She looked up and her eyes once again watered with tears." It's Dennis," she said a little louder this time.

"Who is Dennis can you just tell me that?" I kept the distance between her and me so that she wouldn't get scared.

"It's aunt Patty's boyfriend." She replied in a low voice.

I started to get an idea. "Did Dennis hurt you?" I asked as carefully as I could possibly say it, she looked down and nodded.

"Did he…" I paused unable to say what I needed to say, "Did he touch you or something?" She nodded again, not looking at me and her face turning slightly red. "Oh, honey I'm so sorry, why didn't you tell your aunt?" She was quiet for a moment, then looked up at me and said, "I …I was scared she'd get mad at me."

"So is that why you locked yourself in the closet so he can't get you?" She nodded a tear falling down on her cheek.

"Ok I will make sure nobody hurts you again, ok?" I said quickly, but terrified at the information I just got from the child. "Can you stay here just for a little while so I can talk to your aunty?" She didn't say anything but looked apprehensive. "Don't worry she is not going to get mad at you ok?" She nodded averting her gaze.

I went into the living room where Patricia was sitting on the couch waiting for me.

"So did you find out what's wrong?" She hurried to ask. I nodded standing right across from her and not taking a seat.

"So what is it?" she sounded impatient.

"It's… um," I paused looking for the right words, but there was no nice way of saying this. "She says your boyfriend was touching her inappropriately."

"What?" Patricia exclaimed shocked. "That can't be true, he would never do something like that."

"Are you implying that she's lying?" Silence then in a low voice, "This can't be true, she's making it up. She watches too much TV and she must've gotten it from one of those TV shows. She's just upset that her mother isn't here."

"So you are not prepared to stop seeing your boyfriend?" I asked firmly. More silence.

"Ok, I got the picture. In this case Emily has to go with me."

"You can't just take her," Patricia protested, but it was clear she wouldn't be too upset if I took Emily – one less mouth for her to feed.

"Sure I can," I answered curtly. I was disgusted with the situation. I went back to the other room. Emily was standing quietly in the corner and sobbing.

"C'mon Emily you don't have to stay here, let me take you where nobody will hurt you." I said gently.

"Where's that?"

"It's a home where there are a lot of girls just like you and there are people there who look after them and make sure nobody will hurt them." She nodded and then just started bawling "I want my mommy," she sobbed. I was close to losing it. What do you say to a child in a situation like this? I moved slowly and took her hand. Then I picked her up and whispered, "your mommy can't be here right now, but don't you worry she's looking down on you from up there," I pointed at the sky.

"She is?" Emily sobbed.

"For sure," I said. She smiled a little bit through her tears. I carried her to the car and put her gently in a seat. She sobbed for a little while, but then fell asleep.

When we got to the orphanage she looked scared. She was looking around at all the people in the hallways. I walked with her to the registration office and explained the situation. They asked if I had a social work license and I told them that I did and gave them my license number. There was a ton of paperwork to fill out, and I felt bad for Emily who had to wait while I finished all the paperwork. She was sitting yawning and looking around. Finally I was done, and the guard took us to the room where Emily would be staying. There were two other girls there. They were about Emily's age. "This is Jessica and Marissa," the guard informed us, "you'll be sharing a room."

"You are new?" one of the girls, Jessica said, and Emily quickly looked at me and then nodded. "You are gonna be ok," Jessica smiled.

"Do you want to read a book?" Jessica took a book from the table and opened it. "Ok," Emily nodded. I walked up to her and ruffled her hair. "You are going to be ok, I'll visit you in a few days ok?" She looked me right in the eyes, then nodded – "ok." So I left. I hoped to God that she'd be ok in the orphanage. Maybe later they can find her a nice foster family.

When I got home I was exhausted.

"So how was your day?" Jenna asked setting the plates on the table.

"Not so good," I replied honestly." One guy hates my guts, which I don't blame him for since the only social workers he knows are jerks. And there was a little girl who I had to take to the orphanage because her aunt's boyfriend abuses her."

"He won't hate your guts when he gets to know you," Jenna replied walking up to me from behind, wrapping her hands around my neck and giving me a gentle kiss on the neck.

"I hope so," I sighed.

The phone rang. It was Darry. He was calling to find out how my first day with the patient was. I told him the same thing I told Jenna, and just like her he said it's going to be ok with time.

These days Darry owns a construction company. He was able to save some money once I moved out. Darry's boss retired, and Darry was able to get a loan and together with his savings bought the place out. He is married to a girl named Alison whom he met on one of his jobs. He has a five year old daughter named Ashley. They decided to give her a regular name and not stick with the original names ideas. Darry is crazy about his daughter, and being around her had taught him a thing or two. It taught him that life is not only about hard facts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you everyone who reviewed, favorited and followed it means a lot. Here is the next chapter, enjoy.**

A couple of days passed by, I had a few appointments that went alright - a few kids that weren't doing well at school and got into a few fights. A lot of the stuff I was doing was paperwork again. As the new kid on the block I got stuck with that. Today however I had a different task. I had to go to the reformatory to see this guy Alex Moore who had robbed a convenience store. He had guys that were more important than him and did more damage than him but he was the one who got caught and he wouldn't give the names of the other ones.

I grabbed the car keys and slowly went to the parking lot. I was anticipating the meeting. I knew what kinds of guys got into reformatory – tough, mean guys like Curly or even Dally or Tim. But I also knew that usually underneath this tough exterior there was a scared kid inside of them. Ok maybe not Dally or Tim but Curly and some other guys that I knew. The file also said Alex had gang activity.

Finally I pulled up into the driveway. I got out and walked into the building carrying Alex's file. The guard asked who I was, and after I explained, led me to the office. It was too bright inside, and the place reminded me of the hospital – narrow hallway with doors on both sides. We met people on the way. They looked really mean, and I thought: so this is how the reformatory is. We finally got to the office, and I took a seat waiting for my patient.

Soon he walked in an expression of indifference and even disdain on his face. He sat down across from me and stared directly at me. He was not tall but broad shouldered. The file said he was fourteen. He had big brown eyes that looked mean and cold. His dirty blond hair was heavily greased. He was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, his hands in his pockets. These days I didn't grease my hair. No one at my job did, and it would be weird, but I wished I did right then. Maybe that way Alex would feel closer to me.

Now was the time to introduce myself, and I hated my name. Who would take me seriously with a name like that? For a moment I considered introducing myself as Mr. Curtis, but decided against it. "Hi," I said looking him right in the eyes, "you must be Alex." Alex didn't respond. His s facial expression didn't change. It was like he didn't acknowledge my presence. He had a hard, tough look on his face. "My name is Ponyboy Curtis," I said and added before Alex had a chance to say anything "it's my real name and by the way you don't have to call me Mr. Curtis or anything. You can just call me Pony." For a brief moment I saw something in Alex's eyes changed but then in an instant his indifferent look was back.

"Do you want to tell me about this robbery?" I asked, playing with the pen in my hand, a nervous habit that I had. His response was silence, he only tilted his head down slightly. "Ok you don't want to talk about that." I swallowed hard, trying to meet his gaze and trying to make sure he doesn't realize how nervous I am. "Can you tell me about school, your friends maybe?" I asked trying to sound firm, but friendly - more silence. "You know we are going to stay here until you start talking. I've got all the time in the world. Why don't you tell me how much you like it here and how they treat you and how you have thought about what you are going to do when you get out?" I opened and then closed his file just to be doing something with my hands – I felt antsy. More silence followed.

Alex put both his hands on the desk and was staring down. I was starting to get frustrated, and didn't know what to say or do. I noticed a book on the shelf above the desk, grabbed it and started reading. "You tell me when you are ready to talk." I said to Alex matter- of- factly, looking up from the book. He glared at me –

"I ain't got to talk to you or nothing." he said through clenched teeth absolute hatred in his voice. I desperately thought of how to deal with this situation. "Ok," I finally said opening and closing his file again, "if you don't talk to me you will have to stay here longer or go to jail."

"I don't give a fuck," Alex replied gruffly, and he looked like he wanted to spit at me or something. He was sitting on the very edge of his chair and he looked really tense.

"All right you are talking," I said, smiling a little in spite of myself, but I wished I had prepared a little more what I was going to say, that I had some sort of a plan. I felt like I was failing.

"Ok," I finally spoke up closing the book with a loud bang. "You won't talk about yourself let me talk about myself and you better listen, you better listen good because you and me, we are going to be seeing each other a lot." Alex's pose and facial expression didn't change as I spoke up.

"As I said my name's Ponyboy Curtis. I live on the East side. I grew up on the East side and lived with my two older brothers after my parents died in a car crash. We were poor. I mean real poor. Both my brothers worked but that was hardly enough to pay the bills. Do you think I didn't' feel sometimes like stealing would be the way to go. And let me tell you one more thing - we had a social worker check on us, since we lived without parents and all, and I hated her, I hated her guts. She was one of the most insensitive people I've ever met." I swallowed hard and continued, "She didn't care, she didn't give a damn about us. She lived somewhere in the middle class sector, and she looked down on us like we were dirt, while we needed help. We desperately needed someone who cared, who we could talk to, but there was nobody." I stopped talking for a second, finding it hard to continue, because I was getting emotional. I was telling some stranger, who hated me, the story of my life. I wished I had a glass of water because my mouth was getting dry.

I ran my fingers through my hair and forced myself to continue my story -

"A couple of my friends had to deal with social workers too and theirs were just as bad as ours. So I know how it is and I became a social worker because we need good ones here on the East side. So that's my story now's your turn." I was looking at Alex as I spoke and his facial expression changed a little bit, showed some interest in what I was saying, but he was still silent. Finally he looked up, "I got nothing to say to you." he said firmly. He was staring me right in the eyes as if he was daring me to make him talk. I told him I would keep him until he started talking, but the truth was I couldn't keep him there forever. After forty-five minutes I had to let him go. I was disappointed that I didn't get through to him.

After not being able to talk to Alex I returned to my office and felt really bad about what had happened. My next appointment was Brian Jackson, a thirteen year old who was bullied at school and had attempted suicide. He was held in the hospital for a week. After that he was released with the requirement that he sees a social worker. He was of small built with black hair and brown eyes. When he walked in my office he was very, very pale. He was fidgeting, and I could tell that he was really nervous. This was very serious, and I was probably as nervous as Brian.

"Hi Brian, how are you holding up?" I asked softly, making sure not to scare him off. He hung his head and was silent.

"Can you talk to me please? I'm on your side, believe me. I'm here to help you." I tried to sound soothing.

"You can't do nothing." He said barely audible and turning even paler if that was possible. I frowned. He continued, staring into the distance, "I am bullied really badly. I've been beaten almost every day and it's not just that, they make fun of me all the time, make others laugh at me." His voice was quivering as he spoke.

I cleared my throat, "Why don't you ask your parents to transfer you to another school?" He sighed heavily, "I asked, but my dad said it's not necessary." I frowned again. "Do you have any friends that could walk with you to and from school and in school during the breaks?"

He was silent for a moment, then mumbled looking down "I've only got one friend, and he doesn't have any classes with me and we don't live in the same neighborhood so he can't walk with me." He looked embarrassed, like he was embarrassed he only got one friend.

I felt really bad for him. I just met him, but I could already tell he was a good kid. Maybe just too sensitive and too quiet, a good target for bullies.

"I know it can be difficult, I know that, but you don't want to die believe me." I placed my hand on top of his on the desk, trying to comfort him. Here goes no physical contact with the patients I thought dully, but didn't remove my hand.

"You don't know how it is," he replied bitterly, and I sunk deeper into my chair.

I was desperately trying to think of a solution for his situation, I felt so helpless. Did I bite off more than I could chew? "Can somebody pick you up after school?" I asked next, hoping to God that the answer was yes.

"I live with my father. My mother passed away a couple of years ago." He replied choking up a little when talking about his mother.

"I am really sorry," I said squeezing his palm in mine, "I tell you what, I'm going to see if we can arrange to have someone pick you up."

"It won't help," Brian said and there was such sadness and such hopelessness in his voice.

"Why?" I asked, and he removed his hand from mine.

"It's not just after school. They… get me during school too." He seemed to stumble over his words.

"I know it's difficult to talk about, but what exactly do they do?" I asked writing down a few notes for myself in his file. His eyes grew wide, "They beat me up, call me names, spit at me in front of everyone, hold me up in the hallways so I'm late to class, stuff like that. Once after gym they took my clothes, and I stayed there half naked till the end of the day. Then one of the teachers found me and called my father."

I was getting really worked up listening to this, "have you told anybody?" I asked sounding dead serious.

"Telling the teachers won't help," Brian said quietly and looking away, "the teachers can't control what they do. They can only give them detention and they don't care about that." I was thoughtful for a moment, I wasn't prepared for something like that. "What about if I ask your father to transfer you to another r school?" This was my last resort, if this didn't work I didn't know of any possible solution for Brian's problem.

"My father," Brian said hesitantly and staring at his lap, "he's been in the military, and he's very strict. He thinks it's something I do wrong that provokes others." Brian was close to tears I could tell.

"Well, is he here today?" I asked frowning. How can a father blame his own son for getting beat up every day, I thought.

"Yes he's in the waiting room."

"Let me talk to him." I said trying to sound confident.

"I don't know if this is a good idea…" Brian started and he looked almost scared.

"Please Brian, let me talk to your father," I said tiredly.

"Ok," Brian said sheepishly and left the room. I could see how he was getting beat up. He was so timid and meek.

In a few minutes a tall, broad shouldered man with gray hair walked into the room. He looked lean and tall and there was an air about him, something that you could tell he's been in the army.

"Hi, I'm Peter, Brian's dad. Brian said you wanted to talk to me." He walked into the room and took a seat not waiting for me to offer it to him. He was very confident in himself unlike Brian. He looked expectantly at me.

"I'm Ponyboy Curtis," I said, and already I saw Peter look down on me just because of my name. "Your son is getting seriously bullied at school…"

"I'm aware of the situation," Peter interrupted irritated and giving me a stern look.

"If so would you consider transferring him to another school?" I said, trying to keep my own irritation and anger out of my voice.

"I don't think that's necessary. Boys have always been rough, it's just part of who they are. I don't know why Brian turned out on the weak side. I wish he was more like me. So he gets roughed around a little, it builds character you know. If he didn't show them his weakness it wouldn't happen. Being the way that he is he'll probably get into the same situation in the other school too even if I do have him transferred. And besides take him out in the middle of the year it's not wise different schools have different programs what if he would be behind on the material at the new school. Besides this is a really good school. I'm paying good money for it. Maybe he can man up and stand up for his problems rather than running to kill himself. That's what I hope these appointments with you would help him do. I wanted him to go to private school what's the alternative? Public school – fights, gangs, drugs that's not what I want for him, that's not what his mother would want for him. No this is a good school and whatever problems he has he's just going to work through them." That was quite a speech, but he sounded so set in his way, so determined. I sighed heavily as I realized I wouldn't talk Mr. Jackson into transferring Brian to another school. He thought he was doing good by him by sending him to a private school, and he had a point but he also thought his son was weak, and it was his fault for being bullied and that was not ok.

"But this is really serious what if he tries to kill himself again?" I tried to reason with Mr. Jackson.

"That's what you are for." Mr. Jackson replied curtly. "They give you a fancy degree at school and pay you money so you can make sure that it doesn't happen again." he looked at his watch, "now if you excuse me I have to be somewhere." with that he got up and started walking away.

"Nice meeting you Mr. Jackson," I called after him, but got no response.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok so I thought it would be a little boring if the story was only about Pony's patients so I decided to break it up a little with his home life. The line about Darry playing guitar is dedicated to Patrick Swayze who played guitar on the set of Outsiders. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.**

On Sunday Jenna and I were driving to Darry's house. The gang developed a tradition of getting together for dinner once a month. With everyone being so busy we needed to make sure that the gang didn't fall apart. We took turns hosting, and today was Darry's turn.

We were greeted by Darry wearing a black t-shirt, jeans and a baseball cap backwards. "Hey, get in dinner is almost ready." Jenna and I realized that we were the first ones to arrive. Darry's five year old daughter ran into the room. "Hi uncle Pony," she yelled happily, running up to me.

"Hi there Ash you are getting big." I ruffled her hair.

"I know." She laughed happily. Darry's wife Alison walked into the room. "Ashley," she said, taking her daughter's hand "you didn't put your toys away after you finished playing."

"But I don't want to," Ashley whined.

"Oh, you got to put them away. Hi," she nodded at me and Jenna and gave us a hug. Then nodded at Darry "he wouldn't let me cook, insisted on cooking himself." I chuckled at that. "I can hear you, you know," Darry turned to look at us.

"Whacha making?" I asked walking up to him, it smelled really good.

"You just wait 'n see." He chuckled.

"It better be good," I laughed.

At this moment the door bell rang. Darry locked the door these days. He had a daughter and it wasn't a safe neighborhood. Darry's wife went to get the door. It was Soda and Tiffany. These days Soda and Steve owned the DX, and Soda was engaged to his longtime girlfriend Tiffany. He met her at one of Dally's races.

Soda was carrying a cake. "Just made it," he bragged placing it on the table and greeting everyone. "What ya making Dar?" he asked kicking his shoes off and then walking up to Darry and trying to pick into the pot.

"You are gonna have to wait to find out. It's almost done." Darry swatted Soda's hand, and he laughed.

"Daddy, daddy I want cake." Ashley ran up to Darry and pulled at his t-shirt.

"No," Darry said firmly, "you gotta eat first."

"Please daddy." Ashley pouted.

"No," Darry said, while stirring whatever it was in the pot.

"Oh c'mon," Soda spoke up with a smile, "let her have it." Darry gave Soda a stern look.

"Daddy, uncle Soda says it's ok, can I have it?" Ashley squealed.

"Fine," Darry gave up, glaring at Soda. He got a plate and cut her a piece. She started eating and was done with it in no time, chocolate smudged all over her face.

"Now you got to wash your face," Darry said, smiling in spite of himself and pushing her slightly towards the faucet. I found myself smiling at them. Darry the everlasting parent figure that he was. Now he was a parent for real. But he was getting soft, I thought – what's with letting Ashley have cake before dinner. Having a little girl is not the same as having two tough brothers. I guess a little girl can melt anyone's heart even Darry's. He did good I thought – found somebody he really loved to start a family with.

The dinner was almost ready, and Darry's wife was setting the table when Two-Bit and his girlfriend walked in. "Uncle Two-Bit," Ashley yelled and ran up to him. "Hi Ash, howdy?" he waved at the rest of us. "Here," he set a bottle of sparkling wine on the table. "Supposed to be one of the best out there." He said proudly.

"Thanks Two- Bit," Darry said and got some wine glasses out of the cabinets. Two- Bit took his jacket off and sat down on the couch.

Two-Bit was the most turned around of all of us. After his mom lost her job he enrolled in EMT course and now he was an EMT. He started dating his EMT instructor Christina and now they were going steady.

Ashley jumped onto Two-Bit's lap. Two-Bit had a beard these days. Said it made him look older, and he needed that since his girlfriend was a few years older than him. Ashley started braiding his beard. Then she noticed a tattoo on his left arm. It was an eagle with wings spread and a crown on top of it. Ashley ran and got her markers. She sat down next to Two-Bit and started coloring in the tattoo. "What are you doing Ashley?" Darry scolded walking into the room.

"I'm making it pretty," she replied happy with herself.

"Oh it's gonna be real pretty I know it," Two-Bit chuckled, and Darry just shook his head.

Darry was all finished with cooking, and we were just waiting for the rest of the guys to show up. Soon Steve and Evie, who were married now walked in, and not long after that Dally and his girlfriend and Johnny and his wife showed up. These days Dally was horse racing and taming horses for other jockeys. He was dating Michelle, who was a cop. She was the one who arrested him one time and he convinced her to start dating him.

Johnny was a vet assistant. He enrolled in the program right after High School. He was married to Laura the girl he once met at the lot.

Everybody sat down to eat. The dinner was pork chops with pasta and Alfredo sauce. "This is delicious," Two-Bit said, stuffing his mouth with food. Everybody agreed. "So," Two-Bit said next "the other day I was called to a fire scene. When we got there the firefighters and the police were already there. That lady must've had a hundred cats. The firefighters had to get them all out. It was on the fifth floor so they were throwing them outta balcony on to the matt on the ground. Woudda been funny if it wasn't a fire and shit."

"Were they all and the woman alright?" I asked, picturing cats flying in the air.

"Yeah, they were fine."

"So how's business these days?" Soda asked Darry, taking a bite of his pork chop.

"Oh, doing really good can't complain," he replied, "getting lots of jobs, keeping busy."

"So howdya like being a big shot?"Soda chuckled.

"Oh please," Darry replied, "I'm no big shot you know that."

"Now don't be modest," his wife smiled.

After dinner the girls started cleaning up while the guys were talking to each other catching up with each other's lives. "So how are things?" I asked Johnny walking up and taking a seat next to him on the couch.

"Everything is fine, but there is one thing…" he sounded hesitant.

"What's wrong?" I asked concerned.

He turned his head to look at me, then said quietly, "It's Laura."

"What's wrong? You seem to be doing fine from what I can see." I said carefully, making sure I don't say anything to offend him.

"We are," he paused then continued looking at me from under his bangs. He still had the bangs covering his eyes even after all these years, "she's already talking kids," he said, "and I don't feel like I'm ready yet."

"Oh," I said confused, and Johnny cleared his throat and added, "I don't know if I'm gonna be a good dad given that I grew up with _my_ dad."

"Oh, you are gonna be a great dad." I hurried to assure him. How could he even imagine being the same as his dad? He'll be a good father _because_ he grew up with his dad.

"How do ya know that?" Johnny frowned.

"I see how you are with animals they all are drawn to you because of your good character, ya gonna be a great dad." I assured him.

Johnny sighed heavily, "I hope so."

The girls finished cleaning up, and Darry took out his guitar and started singing. Everybody listened quietly and attentively, he had a really good voice.


	4. Chapter 4

The weekend passed by too quickly like it always was the case, and on Monday I went back to work. I was going to visit the soup kitchen where Taylor was doing his community service, and I was supposed to check on him. I was hoping things were alright, but something was telling me otherwise. I called the supervisor at the soup kitchen so they expected me.

When I got there the supervisor, Shawn met me by the door, and I shook his hand. Shawn informed me that Taylor was nowhere to be found. He also let me know that Taylor was late every day and that he showed up high a couple of times, was talking back to the staff including Shawn and disrespecting the visitors of the soup kitchen. He was neither prepping the food nor serving it. He just hung around.

Needless to say I was not happy with what I was hearing. I was offered a chair by the desk, and I was tapping my fingers impatiently waiting for Taylor to show up. At a quarter to twelve, when I started to think that Taylor was not going to show up at all, he finally emerged from the entrance. He looked like he just got out of bed – his hair messed up, his shirt not tucked in and the strong smell of pot, which he clearly tried to mask with some sort of cologne, entered the room with him. When he saw me he froze. He was just standing in the doorway staring at me, and for a split second I saw fear in his eyes. Then it went back to his usual "fuck the world" look.

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked angrily, but trying not to raise my voice.

"No, what time is it?" Taylor asked trying to play dumb.

"It's three hours late, that's what time it is." I said getting up and walking up to him and staring him right in the eyes.

He wasn't intimidated one bit, "Sorry, I lost track of time," he said sounding irritated and running his fingers through his messy hair, and I thought _he_ is the one that's irritated.

I walked up even closer to him, "Do you always lose track of time? Your supervisor is telling me you are late every day." He was taken aback by that I could tell. He was silent, so I continued - "Do you know that you can go to jail if you don't do this right?"

"Go ahead lock me up," Taylor replied bitterly, anger blazing in his eyes "that's what you are after anyway. Do you think I give a shit?" He added backing up a little since I was standing too close to him now.

"You are high." I said next still looking him right in the eyes, "Do you know it's your parole violation?"

"You can't prove nothing," Taylor smirked obnoxiously, meeting my gaze. I was not amused, how was I supposed to get some sense into him?

"What if I send you to a drug test right now, what are you going to say then?" I decided to give him some tough love, that was the only way to get through to him. It worked – He frowned, and I saw that he got a little scared, but tried to keep his tough exterior.

"Whatever," he said through clenched teeth and glaring at me, "Like I give a shit."

Shawn also told me that they caught Taylor packing food to take home. That alerted me. Why did he need food? Was it possible that there wasn't food at home? I yet had to learn Taylor's home situation. His file didn't say anything about it, which was a good thing, though I was supposed to pay surprise visits to the household and fill out the home situation part of the file.

"Ok, you are dismissed for today," I said reluctantly, "you are in no condition to work. On Wednesday I better hear some good news from Shawn about how you are working and putting in your hours. And that you are not late and you are definitely not high."

"Whatever," Taylor said again, hooking his thumbs in his pockets and slouching. I started to get aggravated and decided to leave before I did or said something I would regret later.

Something was telling me I should pay a visit to Taylor's house. But it was the afternoon, and his parents would most likely be at work. So I decided I'd visit them that evening. I called Jenna telling her that I would be late. As always she was understanding about it.

At quarter to six I started for Taylor's house. I reached the house, which was in the more run down part of the town, all the way downtown. "Who is it?" a woman's voice called out.

"It's Mr. Curtis," I replied, "I'm Taylor's social worker." I didn't say my first name, because that would be the weirdest thing if the first thing Taylor's parents heard of me was that my name was Ponyboy.

I waited for her to open up, staring at the bright green door. Finally she opened the door and let me walk in. "Hi, I'm Maggie I'm his mother, is he in trouble again?" She was medium height, a little on the chubby side with dirty blond hair and small blue eyes. She was looking at me and there was something in her look, like she was apologizing for something. I was about to say that I was supposed to pay a visit as part of my services, when a big man emerged from the living room. "This is Mr. Curtis from social services," Mrs. Williams said to the man. "I guess he is trouble again. Hi, I'm Sam, what did he do this time?" Unlike his wife Sam was very tall, with brown hair and big brown eyes just like Taylor's. I could see that Taylor took after him.

"He is not in trouble," I said shaking his hand, and then added, "yet." I decided not to tell them about the whole service situation, but rather talk to them and inspect the house. I explained that this was part of my job to take a tour of the house, especially Taylor's room. They agreed gladly, and seemed very understanding, but there was something uneasy in the way Mrs. Williams was looking at me then at her husband as if she was trying to tell him something, to give him some sort of a sign.

When we were in the living room I noticed many pictures of Sam in a military uniform. "Vietnam?" I asked picking up one picture and looking at it up close.

"No, Korea," Sam replied proudly.

Then we got to the kitchen, and again I noticed Mrs. Williams giving her husband a concerned look. I thought I even saw her wink at him. I opened the fridge and saw there was nothing there. Next I checked the cupboards - nothing except for two slices of stale bread. That must be what she was worried about, and that's why she looked like she was apologizing. "Sam just got let go off at work, and I never worked," Mrs. Williams said apologetically. I took a note of the situation, and then asked to see Taylor's room.

Taylor's room was small but tidy - a small desk by the window, a dresser, an arm-chair, a couple of posters on the walls. Nothing indicated that something was wrong.

I felt really bad for Taylor's parents. They were going through tough time, and I was sure Taylor being in trouble all the time was only adding to their stress. I decided to help them out a little by getting some food, so I left, and headed to a grocery store. I thought what to get. I got pasta, bread, potatoes, salami and some cookies and milk.

By the time I got back from the grocery store Taylor was home. "What's going on?" he asked me gruffly, standing in the doorway and staring directly at me. "Here," I said, trying to sound friendly so he could see I wasn't mad at him anymore "I got some stuff." I put grocery bags on the kitchen table. Taylor hesitated a moment then turned to face me "take it back we don't need your damn charity," he demanded. I frowned – "of course it is better to steal food at the soup kitchen." Taylor's face turned bright red. He was silent for a long moment just standing there not knowing what to say or do, then he swallowed hard - "Go to hell."

"That's all you got?" I replied smiling and starting to unload the bags and stuffing the food into cupboards, while Sam and Maggie were so embarrassed they went to their room so they wouldn't have to see this. Then Taylor started to take the food out of the cupboards and stuffing it back into the bag. "Take it back," he demanded, his voice roaring.

"I most certainly will not," I insisted and started to unload the food once again. "And I wouldn't make a scene if I were you," I stated firmly, "because all it takes is for me to write a report saying that you showed up high for your service and were stealing food." Taylor glared at me. Then he just turned around and left the kitchen, slamming the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing and following/favoriting it means a lot. Here is another chappie for you.**

On Wednesday I was in my office sipping my afternoon coffee since I skipped lunch, and waiting for Brian, who had an appointment at 4. It was 4:30, and he still wasn't there. I kept going to the waiting room checking, but Brian wasn't there. At 5:00 I decided to call him. Nobody picked up. School let out at 2:30, and by now he should've been home. Also he was usually very much on time for his appointments and if he was running late he always called me and let me know, but today he hasn't called nor picked up the phone. I got a bad feeling about it, a really bad feeling.

I quickly ran into the next office, which was my coworker's Doug's. I kind of got to be friends with him over the short time I was on the job. "Hey Doug I need your help," I rushed to say, standing in the doorway, panting a little.

"What's wrong?" Doug looked up from the papers he was working on.

"I'm supposed to see this kid that tried suicide before. He's an hour late and is not picking up the phone. I think he might try it again. I need you to go with me to his place. We gotta get there quick before it's too late." I said all that in one breath, sounding frantic, and feeling the need for a glass of water as my mouth was dry.

Doug's facial expression changed to that of concern "Sure, I'll tell the secretary to reschedule my appointments." He said, taking his glasses off, putting the papers he was working on aside and getting up.

"Thanks." I said walking out into the hallway and feeling thankful that I got someone to help me. He grabbed his jacket and was walking right behind me.

We got outside. The air was crisp and nice, the sun shining brightly. It was a really beautiful day. The idea that on this beautiful day someone could be so hurt that he didn't want to live anymore was nauseating to me.

Doug was driving way above the speed limit, but we didn't care. All we cared was to get there as soon as possible. There was an abrupt left turn, and Doug went for it full speed. There was a screeching sound, and we almost hit a truck. "Shit," I mumbled, and Doug cussed a blue streak.

Luckily it wasn't too far. It took us about twenty minutes. We walked up to the door, and I rang the bell. I felt really nervous and even scared. What if it was too late, I would never be able to forgive myself. We waited, and I rang the bell again – no answer. Doug was just standing there unsure what to do. I swallowed hard, "We got to bust the door open," I yelled, "I got a real bad feeling about it." Together we ran and busted the door open. "Brian," I yelled walking inside - no answer. We were in the kitchen now. It looked tidy and neat, noting out of the ordinary. I went down the hallway and kept calling out Brian's name, but got no reply.

We passed the living room and his parents' room, again nothing was out of order. Finally, at the end of the hallway there was the door, it was closed, but not locked. I felt beads of sweat form on my forehead as I opened the door. It was really dark in the room - all the shades were pulled down and the light was off and there Brian was lying in bed. I walked up closer - there was an empty bottle of sleeping pills next to him and a half empty bottle of Vodka on the floor. His hair was messed up and his arms were spread out, the marks of tears still visible on his cheeks. "Brian," I almost whispered kneeling next to him. He was unconscious. I grabbed his wrist and checked for pulse. It was weak, but it was there. "Wake up for me buddy," I shook him slightly, leaning in, but he didn't move. He was out cold. I was devastated. The thoughts were racing through my head - It's over I thought we are too late. Why did I have to wait an hour before getting here, I should've gone here right away, it was all my fault. I almost felt like crying, but I willed myself to get it together.

"We got to get him to the hospital right away," I yelled to Doug in a panic, "It's faster than waiting for an ambulance." I grabbed Brian bridal style and started to run outside. "I'll drive," Doug offered and his voice sounded hoarse, he was in just as much panic as I was. I carefully put Brian in the back seat, and sat down next to him, his head resting on my lap. I almost cursed when we faced a red light and had to stop. I kept looking at Brian hoping that maybe he'll gain consciousness, but instead I noticed that he stopped breathing. "Shit," I muttered under my breath.

"We are almost there, what's wrong?" Doug asked quickly, glancing at me with huge eyes in the rearview mirror.

I ran my fingers through my hair, "He's not breathing, man, I got to do rescue breathing." I managed, and suddenly I was aware of how my voice was trembling.

Luckily learning how to do rescue breathing was part of my training. I remembered learning during my training that if someone has pulse but is not breathing then rescue breathing will work and that was the case with Brian. I leaned in and delivered a breath every 5 seconds for two minutes. At the end of two minutes he started breathing and even opened his eyes, then closed them again and passed out again."Hang in, we are almost there," Doug yelled pressing on the gas and going even faster, we didn't care about the speed limit or anything like that.

In about five minutes we ran into ER. We explained the situation, and they called the nurse right away. They asked if we knew how long ago Brian took the pills, and I explained that school let out at 2:30and we found himat5:30, but it's possible that he didn't even go to school that day.

"We'll take care of him right away," the nurse assured us, and with that they placed Brian on a gurney and wheeled him away.

So Doug and I stayed in the waiting room. I felt like all life was drained out of me, and I was sure my face was pale. "Oh God, I hope he makes it," I almost whispered. I felt claustrophobic in a small waiting room, full of small plastic chairs. I got up from my seat and started pacing back and forth. I wanted to smoke, but I didn't want to leave the waiting room in case the doctor showed up.

"Good thing you thought of it," Doug patted me on the shoulder.

I frowned, - "I should've gone there sooner. I waited a whole hour before calling him. I should've gone there right away," I said bitterly, not able to meet Doug's gaze.

"Hey, it's not your fault," Doug said softly and motioning for me to sit down.

"Oh God, I hope, I just hope he makes it," I repeated feeling on the verge of tears.

After a little while I realized that I should probably call Brian's father. I dreaded it, especially after meeting him and knowing how he was and what he said about Brian being weak. But I had no choice I had to call him. I called my secretary and she got Mr. Jackson's phone number for me. I called from the payphone in the waiting room.

"What? Why?" Mr. Jackson sounded uneasy on the other end of the line. "I thought he was doing better, working through his problems, going to the appointments with you." He sounded puzzled and disappointed. "I hoped the appointments with you would help…" he trailed off and there were some accusing notes in his voice, like he was accusing me of not doing my job. Truth be told I was starting to think I didn't do my job. I made a fist, and my nails were digging deep into my palm. Then all of the sudden Mr. Jackson added "Thank you, I'm glad you got there. I'll be there shortly." I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat, and hung up not saying another word.

In about half an hour Mr. Jackson entered the waiting room. He looked worn out and confused. "Hi," he shook my hand. "This is my coworker Douglas Smith," I introduced him, and Mr. Jackson shook Doug's hand too. Then without saying another word he sat down in one of the chairs and hung his head.

In about an hour the doctor walked into the waiting room. "Family of Brian Jackson," he called out. Mr. Jackson literally jumped off his seat. Doug and I stood up too and walked towards the doctor. "Who's related to Brian?" the doctor asked.

"That would be me," Mr. Jackson spoke up, "and these are his social workers," he explained. The doctor cleared his throat, "we can talk in private unless you'd like for his social workers to know what's going on."

"Well, I don't mind if they hear it." Mr. Jackson replied quickly, clearly apprehensive to hear about Brian's condition.

"Ok then," the doctor said, "We pumped the stomach to get rid of the poison and gave him stuff to drink so he will throw up and get rid of it that way too. He was deprived of oxygen for several minutes that may cause brain damage and memory problems." Mr. Jackson looked awful. Gone were his perfect posture and his proud facial expression. He looked tired and defeated. "He is conscious," the doctor continued, "but he is having seizures. That's a common effect of sleeping pills overdose."

"But he is going to be alright isn't he?" I asked desperately, feeling like I might faint and leaning on a wall for support.

"Yes, he is going to be fine except for possible memory problems as I said," the doctor replied. I exhaled in relief. Memory problems is not such a big deal, I thought, when the alternative is death.

"I want to see him," Mr. Jackson mumbled, he seemed to stumble over his words. I wanted to see Brian too, but realized it would be too soon. He must be still in shock from what happened so I decided to be back the next day to talk to him.

The next day during the visiting hours I walked into the hospital and asked to speak with the doctor. The doctor told me that Brian was doing much better, having fewer seizures and that I could see him. I was nervous walking into the room.

Brian was lying still in bed his eyes closed, but when he heard my footsteps he opened his eyes. "Hey buddy, how are you holding up?"I asked quietly. I was really taken aback by this site. He was pale, paler even than when he was in my office and he was still like all life was drained out of him. He gave me a long puzzled look, then his lips curved into a frown. He narrowed his eyes and said something inaudible. "What's that?" I walked up closer to him so I could hear what he was saying. His lips moved again and I realized he was saying "who asked you?" more by reading his lips than by actually hearing the sound. "Oh, Brian…" I started, but he interrupted me – "It's my choice whether I want to live or die. You don't know what I'm going through it's worse than hell." He sounded desperate and all of the sudden his voice was loud, but it was shaking because he was holding back tears. I felt genuinely bad for him, but how could I convince him that suicide was not an answer. I was taken aback by what he said and found it difficult to talk.

"You are messed up," I finally said, carefully taking a seat on the edge of his bed, "you don't know what you want. You are throwing your life away. You are giving those jerks the satisfaction. You are letting them win. Is that what you want, you want for them to win, and they'll have a laugh about how they got under your skin and you killed yourself is that what you want? Are they worth it?" Brian averted his gaze. He was now staring at the white sheet that was covering him. "And I do know what it's like," I continued, leaning in closer to him, "I did go through almost the same thing when I was young."

"You've been bullied – no way." He was looking at me with huge eyes, disbelief written all over his face. I cleared my throat, "Not exactly, but let's just say there was a group of kids that always jumped me and my friends for no reason what so ever. Rich kids from the West side."

He was silent for a moment, then sat up "Well I can't go on like this," he said with finality, "They are really tormenting me. The last time they beat me up I couldn't move my arm for a week and it's not just that- they humiliate me in front of everyone, make me look stupid so everybody's laughing at me."

I didn't know what to say, so I was silent for a moment, squinting a little as the light was a little too bright in the room, then a plan started formulating in my mind. "I know guys like that," I said reluctantly, grabbing his hand "they are all tough on the outside but wusses on the inside. They run in packs, they torment others to boost their ego, to look tough to others. I've seen guys like that and believe me they are not worth dying for. How about if we take care of the problem?"

He looked me straight in the eyes, and there was such hopelessness and despair in his eyes, "You can't do that you a social worker for God's sakes."

"Try me." I smiled widely and squeezed his hand in my palm.

He shifted uncomfortably in his bed -"What are you going to do, run to the teachers? They can't do shit, they can't stop it, and they don't care either." He said bitterly, pulling his hand out of my grip and making a fist. His voice was shaking and a single tear rolled down his cheek. He looked so helpless.

I couldn't look at him, so I focused on the bright colored curtains in the room. I thought what a contrast those bright colored lively curtains were to someone being so sick and in such despair as Brian. All I wanted was to help, to comfort him, to stroke his hair and tell him that it's going to be ok, that I'm on his side, but I knew he wouldn't let me do that so I just swallowed hard and said "No, that's not what I have in mind. How about my friends and I show them a good time, give them a run for their money?"

"What …, you mean you are going to beat them up?" he asked baffled. I nodded, and added dead serious "I bet they need a good working over."

Brian sighed and laid back down. He released his fist, and I could see red marks on his palm where his nails were digging into the skin "You are really going to do that for me?" he croaked his voice breaking and a few tears rolling down his cheeks. I nodded again, leaning in more and patting him on the shoulder "and mind you not," I added with a friendly smile, "I can lose my license over this so I want you to know that your ass is precious enough that I'm risking everything I've worked for since I was your age."

He covered his eyes with his palm, "Nobody ever did anything like that for me," he almost whispered, his voice muffled, then he sighed again and added "Is it going to work?"

"I bet it will." I said firmly, making sure he knew how serious I was about this. Then I added, "Now can you promise me you won't do anything stupid again?"

He hesitated a minute, looking away then nodded, "fine," and I saw a small smile forming in the corners of his lips. "It's not that I want to die," he added all of the sudden, his cheeks turning slightly red, "I just can't take living like this any longer."

"I get it," I nodded again, "Now get some sleep." I added, fixing his blanket as I was getting up.


	6. Chapter 6

The day after Brian got out of the hospital he had an appointment with me. He was sitting quietly in his seat. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, his hair brushed neatly, his big brown eyes looked haunted as he was looking at me, waiting for me to say something. I felt a little awkward and didn't know what to say. "So," I finally asked, "Are you feeling better?"

Brian didn't answer that question. He was fidgeting and seemed distracted. "Are you… going to do what you said you were going to do to them?" He asked anxiously.

"You bet," I said firmly, looking Brian right in the eyes, "now, are they always together?"

"Yes," Brian replied and started biting his nails.

"That's what I thought," I said getting up from my seat and starting to walk across the room.

"So this is how it's going to work – tomorrow after school I will meet you by the exit. You show me who they are, and I take it from there. We can't beat them up right there and then on school premises we'll get in trouble and I'll lose my license for sure. So we'll follow them and get them away from the school. Do the y drive, walk or take the school bus?"

"I think they walk, but I'm not sure, sorry," he said, "I should know this, but I don't." He sounded disappointed, and I thought what a sweet kid he was. He wasn't weak as his father thought, he was just sensitive and just a really nice guy.

"Don't apologize," I said to him quickly, "Either way we'll get them don't' worry."

"Thank you," Brian said quietly, "No one ever did anything like that for me."

"You are welcome kid," I replied with a smile, and then added, "You are worth it." I desperately wanted to help him, nobody should have to think about death at thirteen.

The next day at 2:45 we were pulling up by the school. I spotted Brian by the exit right away, and five big guys beating on him. I wished I could get out of the car and kill the bastards right away, but I couldn't do that so I had to witness Brian being beat up. It's ok, I thought to myself, this is the last time. And the thing that shocked me the most was that there were people passing by, but nobody tried to stop the bullies.

They were laughing the whole time while beating Brian, little did they know that we were watching them and saw the whole thing. Finally they got tired and started to walk away. Brian managed to walk up to my car.

"We saw them," I said, rolling the window down, "don't worry this is the last time you have a bleeding nose." Bran smiled weakly, "I hope so."

"These are my buddies," I said quickly, "but we better not waste time or we'll lose them."

"Ok," Brian said, slouching and looking down. He looked like he didn't believe that this was going to work. I knew that deep down he already accepted his destiny, thinking that he would be beaten and bullied forever and that's why he wanted to die.

"See you in the office kid, cheer up" I yelled at him, grinning as we were driving away.

We followed the bullies in the car, and when they were passing the tunnel I stopped the car. The bullies turned around to see what was going on. Two of the bullies were really big, the others were average size. Three of them were wearing varsity jackets and black trousers. The other two were wearing beige sweaters over a white shirt and khakis.

Darry and I got out of the car and started walking towards the bullies. The rest of the gang followed. We were wearing leather jackets and a lot of grease in our hair and I must admit we looked tough as nails.

"What a hell, look we don't have any money," they started saying because they thought they were being mugged.

"We don't need your stinckin' money you fucking son of a bitch," Dally spat at them.

"You think it's tuff to beat up on a weak kid," I said in a grave voice, taking a step towards them, "how about you take some of your own medicine?"

"What?" one of them said confused.

"Look, he didn't get it," I mocked, zipping up my jacket and flipping up the collar. "You think it's tuff to beat up on Brian, makes you look real tuff doesn't it? Now you'll see how it is to be on the other end."

"Look we don't mean any trouble," they started to say again.

"Damn well you don't," Steve replied spitting on the side. "After this you won't." We were advancing towards the bullies, and realizing what was about to happen the five started backing up.

"Is it about this loser Jackson?" one that seemed to be their leader said, sticking his hand into his pocket as if he had a gun or blade in the pocket, he sounded pretty mad.

"He has a name," I said through clenched teeth, "and you bet it's about that."

"Well, bring it on," the leader said, "We are not scared of you," he stuck his hand deeper into his pocket.

"We'll just see about that," Dally said and started walking towards them.

Dallas ran towards the one that was speaking and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. The bully took his hand out of the pocket holding a blade, but that would never scare Dally away. Dally grabbed the bully's wrist and squeezed it tightly until the bully dropped the blade. Then Dally kicked it out of reach with his foot. The other bully tried to tough it out and started approaching me with his fists. Before he could do anything though I swung my arm and delivered a blow to his face.

Steve and Two-Bit got the other bully, and Darry got the biggest one of them and was punching him in the stomach. The guy got out of Darry's grip and wrapped his hands around Darry's neck and started choking him. Then Johnny jumped on his back and started pounding on him until he let go of Darry's neck. Then Darry pushed him, and he fell on the ground. Johnny was holding his legs pinned down to the ground, while Darry kept punching him in the stomach. "Let go," the guy yelled.

"I'll let go when I see you got the point. Did you get the point? You are not to touch Brian again. You are not to even look at him. If you only do anything stupid again you are gonna hear from me again and it won't be pretty I promise you. So did you get that?" The guy nodded, "ok, ok I got that."

"Now that's better," Darry exhaled. He delivered a few more punches and then let the guy go. The other guys started to let the bullies go too. The one that Soda was beating had a broken nose and a busted lip.

"Now you don't want this to happen again do you?" I said in threatening voice. "So I suggest you stay away from Brian for good is that understood?" One of them nodded.

"Say it," I demanded.

"Yes," he said.

"Now that's better get the hell outta here before I change my mind," Dallas yelled glaring at them. They backed up a bit and then started running.

"I didn't enjoy this one bit," I said tiredly, whipping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand, "but it had to be done. The guy was suicidal for God's sake."

At his next appointment Brian was glowing. I noticed that he wasn't pale like he usually was.

"So how are things working out for you," I asked, "since we…um, took care of your problem?"

"Oh, it's been great," Brian said smiling, and I realized it was the first time I'd seen him smile. "I hadn't had a beating since then, and people are not laughing at me anymore, and I," he paused for a moment, "I made a lot of friends." He paused again, then looked me right in the eyes and added, "Thank you for taking care of it, and thank you for getting me when I… um, you know when I tried…taking my life, I sure don't want to die now."

"No problem," I said and smiled too.

In the evening I went home, feeling really happy that everything worked out with Brian. I was met by my dog Buddy and then I saw Jenna in the kitchen. "You are right on time," she said, "I just finished dinner." I looked at her smiling.

"What?" She said.

"Have I told you that you look beautiful?" I said, putting my briefcase down.

"If I remember correctly," she chuckled "actually you have."

"Well I'm saying it again." I walked up closer to her.

"Well thank you, you are not so bad yourself. It's too quiet in here," she added turning the radio on.

"Do you mean to say I'm not enough for you, and you need the radio to entertain you?" I said. She smiled again.

"Dance with me," - I quickly rushed to her side and grabbed her hands. She was caught off guard. She giggled and put her arms around my neck and we started moving gracefully right there in the kitchen. Half way through the song I leaned in and kissed her. "I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too," she replied, running her hand through my hair and kissing my neck gently.

As I was moving along with the music I couldn't help but think how well my life turned out. I had a girlfriend that I loved, my friends and a job I loved. Things couldn't be better and life couldn't be sweeter than this, then it dawned on me. I knew what I had to do next. I decided there and then that I was going to propose to Jenna. It was time, and I was really thrilled about that.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing and favoriting/following. It really means a lot. Here is another chappie for you:) Also Halloween is almost here. Check out my story "Halloween" that I wrote about how the gang of our favorite greasers spent their Halloween. Anyway on to the story, enjoy.**

A few weeks passed by. I went to check on Taylor again at the soup kitchen, and he was doing much better. His supervisor said he was on time most of the days and he was serving food instead of just hanging around, and most importantly he was never high again. He still gave me attitude during our appointments though and acted like he was doing me a favor by showing up and actually talking to me.

On Friday I was in my office sipping my afternoon coffee, which by now was my daily ritual to have a cup in the afternoon to keep my energy level up. I was enjoying it while flipping through the file of one of my patients when the phone rang. "Hello, social services, Ponyboy Curtis speaking." I put my coffee cup aside.

"Hello, this is Principal Davis. I'm calling regarding Taylor Williams, I understand he is your patient." The voice of whoever was speaking sounded very angry.

I felt a pang in my stomach, what did Taylor do now, I thought, and tighten my grip on the receiver "Yes, he is." I replied trying to keep my voice steady.

"Well, I'd like to notify you that he got in major trouble today. He beat up another boy at school causing severe injuries. We had his parents pick him up, he is suspended for a week and of course this violates his parole. His parole officer was notified, but we thought we'd keep you in the know as well."

"Thank you very much," I replied, feeling a little dizzy, "I appreciate it."

Shit, I thought as I hung up the phone, coffee forgotten. Does he even understand what he is doing? He violated his parole, he is going to go to jail. I got up and started pacing. I thought that overall Taylor was a good kid, but he was already rebellious and jail would harden him and they'll have one more delinquent. If I had to guess who Taylor fought with I'd have to say it was a soc.

The next day Taylor showed up for his appointment. I was pretty mad, but when I saw him I couldn't stay mad and, couldn't help it, but feel sympathy. He looked terrible – his entire forehead was all bruised up, his left eye was totally swollen with a black and blue mark around it and there were scratch marks on his cheeks as if somebody scratched him with his nails. His lip was busted and there was dried blood around it.

"What happened?" I asked tiredly, "you know you can go to jail now that you've violated your parole." Taylor looked miserable, he looked down but only for a second. Then he looked up and looked me right in the eyes, "I know I can go to jail, but they were talking shit about my little brother," he said bitterly, sinking deeper into his seat, "I couldn't let it go, wouldn't give them the satisfaction. There were three of them, and if anything _they_ beat _me_ not the other way around. But I broke one of theirs' hand, son of a bitch deserves it I wish I broke both of his hands." I looked at Taylor, and he was glaring at me. I gave him one long look.

I couldn't stand the idea of him going to jail. "C'mon," I said, sounding almost gentle "maybe there's something I can do. I can try talking to your parole officer maybe he can let it slide." Taylor looked up and just for a moment there was this expression on his face like he couldn't believe I would do that for him. He was going to say something but stopped himself and put on his 'I don't give a fuck' face "I ain't scared to go to jail," he said sharply and staring into the distance.

"I bet you aren't," I replied reluctantly and then added, "C'mon let's go I'll give you a lift home." He gave me a puzzled look, but got up and started walking towards the exit.

After dropping Taylor off, I got back to the office. I got Taylor's parole officer's address. I was sitting at my desk starting out the window and thinking about Taylor. That underneath all the attitude he was a good kid, but what if I was wrong, what if there wasn't more to Taylor than his fuck everything attitude. So far he hadn't shown his good side at all. Thinking this I grabbed my car keys and started my ride to the P.O's office.

I arrived to a small five storey building. I parked and went inside. Suite 306 I read the address. I took the elevator to the third floor and found room 306. I walked in. It was really bright inside. I was met by a secretary - a full figured woman with dark curly hair and a lot of makeup.

"Hi how may I help you?" she asked looking up from the magazine she was reading.

"Hello ma'am, I'm Ponyboy Curtis I'm a social worker, and one of my patients is Mr. Miller's client. I'd like to speak to him." I said trying to sound as polite as possible and taking in the surroundings. The waiting area was small, no chairs, but two long shabby couches covered with fake leather along each of the walls and a coffee table with some magazines on it in the middle of the room.

"Ponyboy?" She kind of rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Ponyboy," I said firmly and meeting her gaze.

"I take it you don't have an appointment." She said matter -of- factly, chewing on her gum.

"No I don't, but it's kind of urgent." I tried to sound important. That was the only way to avoid her giving me a run around and letting me speak with the P.O. I wished I didn't look so young either, but I couldn't do anything about that.

"Have a seat, I'll ask him if he can see you." She said curtly. She got on the phone, said something and then hung up. "Mr. Miller will see you now," she said in a bored tone of voice and motioned for me to go to Mr. Miller's office.

I walked in, and was greeted by a really tall man, who looked to be in his 50s with gray hair and watery blue eyes. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans – seemed pretty informal to me. "Hi I'm Mr. Miller," he held out his hand, "I understand you are one of my clients' social worker."

"Yes," I said shaking his hand, "Taylor Williams. He violated his parole." "Yes," Mr. Miller nodded, "I got a call yesterday, please take a seat," he added. I didn't take a seat, but instead I looked him in the eyes and then said all in one breath, "I'll be straight with you, what do I need to do to make this parole violation disappear?" Mr. Miller looked like he was caught off guard. He looked baffled, then sighed heavily. "Please," I said, feeling my palms get sweaty, "he's a good kid just misguided. I'd hate for him to go to jail."

The P.O. gave me a long hard look. "So how long have you been on the job, son?" he asked furrowing his eyebrows. I felt my ears go red, "two months," I mumbled, making a fist, and feeling all my muscles tense up, "but that has nothing to do with …" I was interrupted by the P.O. "Do you know son how many of them I've seen go to waste. They are all good kids deep inside aren't they?" he said bitterly, taking his glasses off and looking me right in the eyes.

I swallowed hard, I had to convince him, there was no way I was going back empty-handed. I was still standing in the doorway, but now I walked up closer to the P.O. "Please," I said, my voice trembling slightly "not long ago I was a kid like that. I know how it feels, please," I repeated, "give him another chance. I can vouch for him."

"And what makes you so sure?" He sounded pessimistic.

"I don't know, but I can just feel it. If he goes to jail that's the end of him. I can assure you if I can only have more time with him I can talk some sense into him, make him see things differently make him realize that there 's another way."

He was silent for a moment, considering what I said, then he finally spoke up, "You are asking of a lot, but I like you. We need more people like you in this field, people that care. Most social workers are so used to seeing all kinds of ugly stuff that they don't even care anymore. Like I said you are asking me of a lot but I'll let it slide this time, but remember this is the first and last time I'm doing something like this."

"Thank you, thank very much Mr. Miller," I said, feeling relieved, like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders, "You don't know what it means to me."

"Sure son, hope you are right about him." With that I left.

The next Thursday at around 3:30 Taylor entered my office "So when am I going to jail?" he asked while still in the doorway. He tried to sound indifferent, but his voice was trembling slightly.

"Sit down," I motioned for him to take a seat. Taylor did, rocking in the chair a little.

"Yare are not going to jail." I said simply, hoping to God that I did the right thing and I will finally be able to get through to him. Taylor gave me a puzzled look, "but you said…"

"I know what I said. Let's just say I had a nice talk with your P.O. and he's willing to make it disappear." Taylor's facial expression changed in an instant, "no way," there was joy and relief in his eyes. For a moment he forgot that he was supposed to act tough and be this tough kid who doesn't give a fuck about anything. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, "I can't believe it man, nobody ever did anything like that for me." His voice was hoarse and he was looking at me from under his bangs.

"Now, this is the first and last time I'm bailing you out. You better not screw this up, don't make me regret it." I tried to sound really serious, but I couldn't keep a smile off my face.

Taylor seemed a little choked up, "I won't screw it up," he finally said barely audible.


	8. Chapter 8

On Saturday we all went to watch Dally race. It was barrel racing, cross-country and show jumping. This was the final competition. Before this each rider competed in a smaller competition and the winner from each of those competitions was competing today in the final round. There were twelve of them all together.

Dally's been talking about it for weeks. We were cheering and laughing the whole time. Johnny got up from his seat and was cheering loudly, his wife smiling at him. He was still shy and timid Johnny that I was used to, but from time to time he opened up and felt free and it was really nice to see that.

Dally was fierce - his horse jumping over the obstacles and galloping towards the next one. I could see how Dally really liked doing this. It was an adventure, an adrenaline rush, and that was so Dally.

Finally it was intermission and Soda and I went to get snacks for everyone.

"Here," I said to Jenna, handing her the food.

"No I shouldn't. I'm getting fatter by the day." She replied smiling awkwardly. I chuckled, - "you are beautiful," and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"I'll take it," Two- bit piped in, stretching out his arm to get the food while balancing the food I already gave him on his knee.

"You _are_ getting fatter by the minute," I said swatting his arm, but then gave him the food anyway.

The whole thing lasted two and a half hours, and Dally won. We were all whooping and clapping like crazy. Dally got a trophy and a small cash prize. He walked up to us all happy and still panting, out of breath.

"Wanna go with me to the back check out the horses?" he asked casually, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. We nodded.

We followed Dally to the area where the horses were kept. Soda walked up to the horse and started petting her. He looked sad.

"What's the matter?" I asked walking up closer to him.

"Oh, it's nothing," he replied quietly and averting his gaze, "I just remembered my horse Mickey Mouse. I'd like to know where he is now. To just know that he's in good hands. You were still little then, you probably don't even remember."

"I wasn't that little and I remember plenty. I remember how you bawled every night for a week after they took him away. Do you know I was trying to save money for you to get him back?"

"Really?" Soda asked surprised, "I didn't know that."

"Well, I did," I swallowed hard.

"Thanks," Soda said, "You've always been a good brother and you still are. Maybe I…" he paused, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably and looking down, then cleared his throat and continued, "Maybe I don't tell you often enough how proud of you I am. You rose from nothing and you achieved so much already. It was so tempting to rebel, to get on the wrong path but you kept your eyes on the prize and kept working on getting out."

"We are all proud of you," Darry, who was standing next to Soda and heard the whole conversation, said. "We are proud that you chose giving back as your career. You could've done anything and you'd succeed you could've turned into a super soc, have a lot o money, nice cars, live on the West side, but you chose a job with a modest pay and still live on our side of town. You did good little buddy," he slapped me on the shoulder affectionately. He still called me 'little buddy' after all those years. I was feeling embarrassed from all the attention I was getting. "I just 'member how we hated our social worker. I just felt like nobody really cared so I needed to fill that void." I mumbled. "Like I said, you did good," Darry repeated looking me right in the eyes.

While we were talking Johnny kept petting the horse, and she put her head on his shoulder and started nibbling on the collar of his jacket.

"Can I ride?" Johnny asked hesitantly, running his fingers through the horse's hair.

"Do ya know how?" Dally smirked.

"No, I've never been on a horse before," Johnny admitted and then added timidly, "but maybe I can manage. It looks like a lot of fun."

"You bet it is," Dally said lighting his cigarette, "Ok, you can ride just not this one. She's too wild for you. Try this one," he pointed to another horse – "this is Misty. She's a little quieter kind of like you," he chuckled.

Johnny got on the horse with Dally's help. At first the horse was stumbling, and Johnny looked like he didn't know what he was doing, his wife laughing at him, but then he pulled the reins and the horse took off. Johnny made a small noise, and we all laughed.

Soda was also petting a horse and tried riding. He was crazy about horses. Then he got his girlfriend to ride with him.

"They look really good together," I noted.

"They sure do," Steve replied. Then I got on a horse too and asked Jenna to ride with me. She was sitting behind me, her hands around my waist, her head on my shoulder. It was really nice out – the sun was shining and a nice breeze was playing with my and Jenna's hair. Overall I had a really nice time first watching Dally and then riding, but I was already thinking about tomorrow. Tomorrow was the big day – I was going to propose to Jenna.

The next day Soda's girlfriend, who knew that I was going to propose, asked Jenna to go shopping with her to help her pick out an outfit for a party at work. I wasted no time and started on dinner. I was cooking spaghetti and steak. The most important part was the sauce. I used my mom's recipe. She had this book where she wrote down all her signature dishes. It was in her handwriting and everything. I felt a little chocked up as I took the book into my hands. Here I was going to propose, going to get married and my mom was not there to witness any of it. I willed myself not to feel sad and I was determined to do my mom's recipe justice.

When I was finished I set the food in a nice bowl on the table and lit up a few candles. I put a bottle of Champaign in a bowl in an ice bath. Then I put a bouquet of roses in a vase on the table and sprinkled rose petals from the door area and the hallway all the way into the living room.

Next I opened the drawer and took out the photo album. I had an idea to hang the pictures all around the house. I picked out the best pictures and got to work. There was a picture of Jenna and me at the beach, I was carrying her bridal style, there was the one from her birthday she was blowing out the candles, there was the one from 4th of July when we were watching the fireworks, there was the one in the club dancing.

Finally I was done. I looked around evaluating my work. I did good, I thought and now I was feeling antsy waiting for Jenna to get home. Finally, I heard the key turn in the lock. She walked in. "Oh, I'm exhausted…" she started to say then stopped in the doorway baffled, looking at the rose petals on the floor. "Pony, what's all this?" she started to say. I walked up to her and took her hand. I walked her into the living room. She was looking at the rose petals on the floor.

When we walked into the living room and she saw all the pictures hanging around she looked shocked. That's the effect I was going for so I was glad it worked. I got on my knee and she covered her mouth with her hands. I took out the ring – "Jenna Samuel will you marry me?" I said, my voice quivering slightly. She burst into tears, "Yes," she said barely audible, choking up. I took her hand and put the ring on her finger. "I don't deserve this," she mumbled through her sobs.

"You deserve so much more than this," I said and kissed her gently.

Then we had dinner. "What's your favorite picture?" I asked her taking a bite of my steak.

"That one," she pointed to the one where I was on a motorcycle and she was sitting behind me, hands wrapped around my waist.

"Mine too," I said smiling.


	9. Chapter 9

**Here is another chapter, thank you everyone for reading, favoriting/following and reviewing it really means a lot. Oh, and happy Halloween everybody:)**

A few weeks passed uneventful. Taylor was doing much better, going to his service and giving me less attitude during our appointments. I reminded him again about the program that trains to be a mechanic, but he brushed it off. Brian was doing great, and I was genuinely happy for him. I still didn't get through to Alex though. Something I'll just have to deal with, I thought. Today however I was going to check on Emily - the girl that locked herself in the closet, who I took to the orphanage about a month and a half ago. They placed her in foster home, and it was my job to follow up to make sure everything was OK.

The family that took Emily in lived on a farm in the suburbs of Tulsa. They had a farm so they weren't poor, that's a good thing I thought while driving up there.

When I drove up to the address, I saw a big and tall fence - you couldn't see the house. I opened the gate and walked inside. There was a huge house and land all around it. I was immediately hit by the smell of the animals and I could hear the noises made by them in the distance. The house was huge, painted white with a green roof.

I walked up the porch and rang the bell. The door was answered by a woman. She was a little chubby with brown hair with strands of gray. She was wearing a gray dress and an apron.

"Mrs. Hunter?" I asked.

"Yes, that's me, how can I help you?" she sounded surprised.

"Nice to meet you," I said stretching my hand out, "I am Emily's social worker. I'm here to check how she's doing." Mrs. Hunter looked confused for a second then got a hold of herself and planted a polite smile on her lips. "Please come in, take a seat." She cleared her throat and it looked like she didn't know what to say. "Emily is … um, playing with the animals outside I'll go get her."

"Sure," I replied not thinking much of it, "do you mind if I take a look around the house in the meantime?" She looked friendly enough, and I sincerely hoped that everything was ok with Emily. She deserved that.

"Or please, you can definitely do so." Mrs. Hunter left, and I went into the kitchen first thing. I opened the fridge. There was a lot of food inside. Then I opened the cupboards – a lot there too. The place looked tidy and straightened up. I went to the living room – large couch with a throw over it, a big TV, a table, a large closet. Then I went into what looked like a child's room. I figured it was Emily's. It was decent. There wasn't much – a bed, a dresser with a mirror and a night stand. It also looked clean and tidy. It looked like everything was ok and I felt relieved. I went back into the living room, where Mrs. Hunter and Emily were waiting for me.

"Hi, Emily, do you remember me?" I stepped forward. She nodded. "How have you been?" I asked smiling, expecting her to say everything was ok. She looked hesitant for a moment before replying, and gave Mrs. Hunter a somewhat puzzled look, and I noticed Mrs. Hunter gave her a little nod. Emily looked down and mumbled something. I was thrown off, was something wrong?

"What's that, honey?" I asked in a soothing voice.

"I'm fine," she repeated a little louder, and still looking down. Mrs. Hunter wrapped her arm around Emily's shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. "I like staying here," Emily mumbled still looking down. At this point I was not convinced. I cleared my throat … "um, thank you Mrs. Hunter," I said looking her right in the eyes, "but I would like to speak to Emily alone." I saw a frown on Mrs. Hunter's face. She clearly disliked this proposition, but she had no choice but let me talk to Emily.

"Ok, I'll be in the kitchen," she said reluctantly, walking away.

Emily and I sat down on the couch in the living room. "So how is everything?" I asked Emily, hoping she would let me know if there was something wrong. She looked in the direction of the kitchen, then looked down and said "I like staying here." She sounded like a robot repeating the lines that she was supposed to say. I wasn't buying that.

"Hey, look at me please," I said carefully, turning to face her "and now tell me what's bothering you."

"Nothing," she said sheepishly, staring down at her lap, her voice quivering slightly.

"C'mon," I replied trying to meet her gaze, "I see that something's wrong. What is it? You can tell me." She looked apprehensively in the direction of the kitchen, then whispered "Sharon told me not to say anything or I'll get in trouble." Now I was concerned even more.

"You don't have to be afraid of her," I said also lowering my voice to make sure Mrs. Hunter doesn't overhear anything. Emily was silent, just sank deeper into the seat.

"So what do you do around here?" I tried another tactic.

She looked in the direction of the kitchen again, her face turning pale, then whispered "I clean… a lot." I was taken aback by that.

"I can see that it's really clean around here, did you clean that?"

"Yes," she said barely audible. I frowned.

"Ok, what else do you do?" I asked firmly, concern in my voice.

"I help Sharon's husband clean and feed the animals. He says since their son moved out they have nobody else to help." She said meekly and stumbling over her words. I bit my lower lip. I started to get the picture - these people were clearly taking advantage of her. They got money from the state to care for her, instead it looked like they were slaving her not wanting to hire and pay somebody to do the work around the farm.

"So tell me just now when Mrs. Hunter went to get you, you weren't _playing_ with animals, you were working?" She glanced at me, meeting my gaze for a second, then nodded. I was furious, but I still needed to get a better picture of what was going on.

"So when do you do all these things?" I asked reluctantly.

"Well," she paused a little, "in the morning before I go to school we feed the animals…" I frowned, she must be getting up at five in the morning to do that. "Then when I get back from school in the afternoon I clean the house and do the dishes and then I help Sharon's husband clean the animals and feed them again." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Don't you get tired?" I asked.

"I do, but I have to do it," she whispered shooting another worried look in the direction of the kitchen.

"What do you mean you _have_ to do it? What happens if you don't?" I could hardly contain myself from raising my voice.

"One time … ,"she paused, "I was doing my homework and I didn't clean and didn't do the dishes so they didn't let me eat dinner that night. They said I didn't earn it."

This was outrages. "How do you do at school?' I asked. She looked down and started biting her nails – "not so good." No wonder, I thought, she's probably so tired all the time from all the work she's doing and getting up so early in the morning.

I've heard about enough. "C'mon sweetie go get your things, you are not staying here." Her eyes grew wide, "am I going to get in trouble?"

"Oh no, you are not in trouble." To my surprised she stated crying, - "I don't mind all the work," she was saying through sobs, "I don't want to go back to the girls' home." My heart was breaking, I wished I could take her home with me.

"It's not right for you to do all the work around here," I said trying to sound as nice as possible, "and you aren't doing well in school because of it." I couldn't even begin to imagine how it would traumatize her to be thrown into different foster homes and then out of them. I thought about when I was fourteen and Darry was taking care of me and how absolutely terrified I was of going to boys' home, and this girl, at her young age had to go through that. I felt so much pain and compassion, but there was nothing I could do.

She obediently went into her room still sobbing, while I went into the kitchen to talk to Mrs. Hunter. "I'm taking the child," I said not bothering to explain myself.

"What do you mean you are taking her?" she said flustered, turning away from the cutting board where she was chopping some carrots. It's a good thing they are not forcing Emily to cook too, I thought sarcastically.

"She told me you've been making her do work around the house and on the farm." Mrs. Hunter's face turned red. I'm sure she was thinking about telling Emily not to tell about doing the work or she'd get in trouble.

At this moment a tall man walked into the house. He was wearing a plaid shirt, jeans and heavy boots that made a lot of noise as he walked. Emily walked into the kitchen with her backpack over her shoulders. She was shaking slightly. "What's going on?" the man, who I assumed was Mr. Hunter, asked.

"I'm taking Emily back," I said with contempt, "and I will make sure you are taken off the foster homes list. There is no way I will allow you to ever have another foster child again. Let's go Emily." I gently took her hand. She started crying out loud.

"Oh, please, please don't cry," I picked her up and carried her outside. I put her gently in the passenger seat. How do you explain this to the child that grown-ups are not always worth the trust.

"Please stop crying honey," I said, stroking her hair "it's only for a little while. We'll get you a good family, a really good one, I promise." 'I promise' I thought as I spoke the words, but how would I be able to ensure that. I just hoped to God that I would be able to fulfill my promise. I even considered that maybe she could stay with me but decided against it - I mean Jenna and I weren't even married. So I took her back to the orphanage, and it about broke my heart when she broke down and cried asking for her mother. I walked her down the hallway talking to her in a soothing voice and by the time we reached her room she stopped crying.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you everyone who reviewed or favorited/followed. It really means a lot**.

I couldn't stop thinking about Emily for the rest of the day. I tried to concentrate on what I was doing, but my mind kept picturing her crying and asking not to leave her at the girls' home. I promised her to get her a good foster family, but how can I ensure that. Maybe after all I should take her in. I was sure Jenna wouldn't mind. The more I thought about it the more I was convinced that I should take her in and possibly adopt her.

The day was over, and I was driving home still thinking about Emily. I almost crashed into a truck once that's how distracted I was. Finally I was home.

"Hi babe," Jenna met me in the hallway, giving me a quick peck on the lips, "dinner is ready." I didn't have much of an appetite, but I knew she tried really hard to make nice dinner so I didn't want to disappoint her. I washed my hands and sat down at the table. Jenna put the plate in front of me. It was Lasagna, and I knew she put a lot of effort and time into making it. But I just couldn't force myself to eat. I felt tense, dizzy and even a little nauseous.

I was pushing the food around on my plate with the fork, not eating much. Jenna gave me a long, worried look. "What's wrong babe?" She asked, "You seem distracted and you are not eating." I sighed, "I need to talk to you," I said, moving the plate with the food aside.

"Is something wrong?" she sounded really concerned.

"No," I replied, getting up and walking into the living room "not with me anyway."

"What is it?" she sounded apprehensive, "just tell me already."

I sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to me for Jenna to sit down.

I didn't quite know how to start. "You see," I said thoughtfully and paused looking for the right words. I signed then continued – "one of my clients at the clinic is a little girl who's been through a lot. Her mother killed herself, and then she was staying with her aunt." I told Jenna the rest of Emily's story, how she was staying with her aunt's abusive boyfriend and how she was placed into foster family, but they made her work. I told Jenna how I had to take Emily back to the girls' home, and how she was crying and asking me not to leave her there.

"That's horrible," Jenna exhaled, turning pale when I was finished with my story.

"I was thinking," I said hesitantly, but looking her right in the eyes "that maybe we should take her in. I promised," I swallowed hard, "I promised her that I'll find her a really good family and I can't ensure that unless I take her." Jenna was thoughtful for a minute, then gave me an understanding look, she moved closer to me and took my hand affectionately. "Taking care of a six year old is a lot of responsibility, but I think we can manage, I'd hate to see her suffer any longer," She replied quietly.

"Of course we'll manage," I said enthusiastically, "look at Darry – he has a five year old and he manages just fine. That's it then," I said instantly feeling better. Now that Jenna supported my decision any doubts about if it's the right thing to do disappeared. I knew for sure it IS the right thing to do. "I love you baby," I said to Jenna, moving closer to her on the couch and giving her a kiss.

The next day I filled out all the paperwork to have Emily live with us. I had to go through an evaluation and then I could take her. I wanted to tell Emily right away that she'll be living with me, but I decided to wait for the evaluation first. What if they say after the evaluation that I can't keep her. I really hoped that won't be the case though, it would break my heart.

In about two weeks my paperwork was processed, and I had people from social services visiting me for an evaluation. It was weird since these days I was the one visiting other homes with evaluations. This felt more like when I lived with Darry, and we had people from social services visiting our house on the regular basis.

There were two of them - a tall man, who looked maybe in his thirties. He was wearing a long raincoat and a fedora and a short, blond woman, who looked much older. She was wearing a heavy jacket. I took the coat and the jacket from them and hung them on the hook by the door. They both looked very professional and were wearing suits. They introduced themselves as Mr. Kaplan and Mrs. Stevens and got right down to business.

First they took a tour of the apartment. It was a two bedroom so we had a spare room for Emily. They seemed pleased with that. Then we all sat down in the living room, and they were asking Jenna and me a bunch of questions. They asked about my job, how much I was making and if I still had time after my job to look after Emily, help her with her homework and stuff like that. Everything seemed to be going well until they asked if Jenna was living there with me. "Yes, we live together," I confirmed. The woman gave me a disapproving look - "But you are not married, do you think that's a healthy environment for the child?" I cleared my throat. No way I was going to let this meeting go bad just because Jenna and I weren't married. "We are engaged, we'll be married in a couple of months" I said firmly, tilting my head to look directly at the woman. The expression on her face seemed to soften a little.

"Mr. Kaplan and I need a minute to discuss. Do you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?" she said next.

"Sure, take your time," I said as Jenna and I got up from the couch and went into the kitchen. We could see Mr. Kaplan and Mrs. Stevens talking and Mrs. Stevens kept shaking her head. I was standing there all tense, making fists wishing I could hear what they were saying. Jenna walked up to me from behind and wrapped her arms around my neck, "It'll be alright," she whispered softly into my ear.

"I hope so," I sighed taking her hand.

Finally the social workers walked into the kitchen. Mr. Kaplan made eye contact with me and said "Congratulations, you are approved." I exhaled in relief. "You'll have monthly visits from the social services to make sure everything is ok, but given that you are a social worker you already know how it works," he seemed friendly enough as he was saying that.

"Yes," I nodded, "I know exactly how it works, thank you Mr. Kaplan, Mrs. Stevens, I won't disappoint you."

They left, and I gave Jenna a hug, a huge smile plastered across my lips. Next thing Jenna and me went to the spare room and started planning what we needed to buy for Emily's room. We decided where the desk would go, the bed, the dresser and a few other things. I was overjoyed and couldn't wait to go to the store to get the furniture for Emily's room.

For the next few days we were preparing Emily's room for her arrival. We got all the furniture and repainted the walls soft light navy blue color and bought new curtains that matched the walls. Her bed was by the window and her desk was on the opposite side by the wall. We bought nice sheets and blanket for the bed with Disney characters on them. We also bought her some new clothes and a new backpack since I noticed hers was all old and worn out and we bought some toys and school supplies for her. I told the guys that we were adopting Emily, and they were all happy for me. Darry said that now I would finally understand how he felt when he was raising me and Soda. Johnny said that I was very brave doing this, and Dallas just smirked and messed up my hair.

Next Monday I went to get Emily. When they brought her to the office, where I was waiting for her, she seemed very quiet and was looking down.

"Hi, Emily," I said walking up closer to her. "How are you doing?"

"I don't want to stay here," she said sheepishly, looking up at me, fear in her eyes that she said something wrong.

"It's ok, sweetie I understand, guess what you don't have to stay here anymore." She looked up, hope in her eyes, "I don't'?"

"No, how would you like to live with me?"She looked up baffled, "with you?"

"Yes, with me. You are going to have your own room and everything. I already got it set up for you would you like that?" I could see she was trying not to seem too eager, but she really perked up in spite of herself."

"Forever and ever?" She asked like she couldn't believe it.

"Forever and ever," I replied with a friendly smile.

"And you will not give me away?" she continued questioning me, squinting slightly.

"Never," I said kneeling down to her level and meeting her gaze.

"I like that," she finally said barely audibly.

"You are really going to like it," I said taking her hand.

Once we arrived, I introduced her to Jenna and showed her her new room, her new clothes, toys and school supplies. "This is all for me?" She asked in a small voice as if she couldn't believe it, and was afraid that something was going to go wrong.

"Yes, it's all for you," I replied ruffling her hair a little, "do you like it?" She seemed overwhelmed. She looked at the sheets with Disney characters and smiled, "I like them," she said. Then she was silent for a minute then said. "When I used to live with my mommy I had my own room," she said quietly, "but then after that I never had my own room."

"Well, now you are going to have your own room again," I reassured her, giving her a hug. She looked at the toys and grabbed a doll.

"Are you going to give her a name?" I asked trying to make her more relaxed.

"Veronica," she replied.

"Oh, that's a pretty name," I smiled.

"It was my mommy's favorite name after Emily," she said simply, and I bit my lower lip. I choked up a little. This girl has been through so much. I could relate to her since I also lost my parents, but it happened to her at such a young age. I was determined to do what's right by her.

I patted her on the shoulder, "if you ever need anything you can always ask me or Jenna. Whatever you need we are going to get for you, deal?"

"Deal," she smiled, then added, "Thank you…" and stopped not knowing how to address me. I smiled at that. "You can call me Pony," I said.

"Thanks Pony," she repeated, and then added smiling a little "you really have a funny name." I was glad she was more at ease, "I sure do," I replied smiling too, "now why don't you go wash up and get to the kitchen for dinner before it gets cold,"

"Ok ." she said and left the room taking the doll with her.

After dinner it was a little awkward. It's like Emily didn't know what to do. "Do you like to watch cartoons?" I asked softly. She nodded, "They didn't let us watch cartoons a where I stayed before."

I frowned, "Tell you what, you can watch cartoons any time here." I led her into the living room and turned the TV on. So, Emily was in the living room watching cartoons. She seemed to relax a little, and it looked like she was enjoying herself, brushing her new doll's hair. Jenna and I stayed in the kitchen doing the dishes. "This is great," Jenna said looking at Emily, and I nodded, "wait till she meets Darry's Ashley," I chuckled, "the two of them will be unstoppable," Jenna chuckled too, "I haven't thought about that but you are right."


	11. Chapter 11

**Ok, here is another update, thank you so much everyone for reading, reviewing or favoriting/following. It really means a lot and keeps me motivated to continue writing. Anyway here we go, enjoy.**

On Wednesday it was time for me to check up on Alex at the reformatory. However before going there I made a stop at Tim Shepard's place. Alex's file said he was a gang member in Tiber Street Tigers gang, and Tim knew about everything and everyone that had to do with gangs.

Tim opened the door and went back to his pot of coffee and poured himself some. His hair was messed up, his shirt was wrinkled and he was barefoot. He was clearly getting over a hangover.

"Hey Curtis," he greeted "you ain't just visiting to see how I'm doing so whacha need?"

"Hi Tim," I said awkwardly, walking up a little closer to him, "I need info on one of the Tiber Street Tigers"

"Which one?' Tim asked sipping his coffee and not offering me a cup, which I thought was kind of rude, but that's Tim for you.

"Alex Moore." I said firmly. I was hoping that the information I got from Tim would somehow help me get through to Alex.

"Oh that kid? That kid's trouble." Tim replied searching his pockets and taking out a pack of cigarettes.

"Why's that?" I sighed, leaning against the wall and offering Tim a light.

"That one, he picks fights," Tim said, lighting his cigarette, "If there's a person next to him there's gonna be a fight," he smirked, then continued "He was a really good pusher though. He's in reformatory now… Wait are you… he's your…. , no fucking way…You are Mr. big shot now." Tim smirked again, letting a perfect smoke ring out.

"I'm no big shot and you know it" I said quickly, running my fingers through my hair. I was proud that I was still one of the guys, I didn't sell out. "I'm no big shot." I repeated pointing a finger at him. "Still live on this side of town don't I? Always did and always will."

"Ok, ok" Tim waved his arm, "no need to get all defensive now, but are you …"

"Yes, I'm trying to help him while he's at the reformatory." I said, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Well say hi from me," Tim smiled a crooked smile. "That thing that he was a pusher I bet that's gonna help him a lot huh?"

"Who do you think I am?" I hurried to reassure him, I was offended that he thought I'd rat Alex out. "I ain't telling no one. Look I'm not like that, I just needed to know for myself what kind of guy he is that's all. I ain't planning on telling anyone."

"Ya a tuff guy Curtis I always knew that." Tim took another sip of his coffee and cursed it for still being too hot.

"Thanks Tim," I smiled at his antics and started walking towards the door.

"Be well," Tim yelled after me, as the door slammed behind me.

At around noon I was at the reformatory. I went into the office set up for my appointments with Alex. But instead of Alex Mr. Evans, the principal walked in. The principal was a chubby short man with brown and partly gray hair, He was wearing a brown suit and his hair was neatly combed to the side. The way he talked and handled himself it was clear he took himself and his position at the reformatory very seriously.

"Hello Mr. Curtis," he greeted.

"Hello Mr. Evans," I got up and shook his hand feeling uneasy. Why was the principal there? "I'm waiting for Alex Moore. He has an appointment."

"That's what I'd like to talk to you about." The principal proceeded to say and walked up closer and took a seat across from me. The seat where Alex usually sat during our appointments.

"Is something wrong?" I asked looking up at him, concern in my voice. I had a bad feeling that something had happened to Alex.

"As a matter of fact yes," he cleared his throat, Mr. Moore's behavior is unacceptable. He starts fights right in front of the guards. He fights in the cafeteria, in the room and outside. He started five fights this week and he pulled a blade on one of the guards. I don't know where he got it from, but he cut him up." The principal spoke like each word he said was of great importance, pausing after each word and giving me meaningful looks. I didn't like him one bit, and I didn't like what I was hearing. I sunk deep into my chair and wished this conversation with the principal would be over and I could see Alex.

"We had just enough of him here," the principal continued with finality, crossing his arms, "We can't handle him here so we are transferring him to Riverside reformatory in Oklahoma City. That place is much stricter than ours. It will do him good."

My heart sank and I frowned at the mention of the Riverside reformatory. It was known for its strict rules and that people didn't return from there the same. It was the same as jail with cruel guards and strict discipline and almost no visitation hours. Everyone dreaded going there. I couldn't believe this was happening, I was quite shocked.

I started to fidget, "I don't think it's wise…" I said, letting my temper get the best of me, but then I realized I was overstepping my boundaries. I looked down, "Is there anything I can do?" I asked quietly, still having some hope.

"I'm afraid not Mr. Curtis." Principal Evans said curtly. I swallowed hard. I had to stop it. I knew if Alex was transferred he would never get on the right path. He would be in and out of jail his entire life just like so many from our neighborhood and to people like Mr. Evans he would be just another statistic.

"With all due respect," I said trying to keep my cool and keep the irritation out of my voice, "but my professional opinion on this matter is negative. We were making progress." That was a lie of course - we haven't made any progress whatsoever. Alex was totally unresponsive, but I went with a lie. "We have a really good program at the clinic," I said sounding pleading "it's for difficult kids. If you just give him a chance..."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that Mr. Curtis." He tilted his head forward and was looking down on me, the look o f 'I know it all' in his eyes. "Mr. Moore has been a distraction here, and we have enough distractions as it is. I don't know what kind of progress you were making. You are young Mr. Curtis," he cleared his throat, "but I've seen people like that over the years." He sounded all proud of himself. "They can't be helped. They steal, drink, fight, get in trouble with the law that's who they are. It's in their blood and it can't be helped. So to answer your question no there is nothing you can do and your services will no longer be necessary starting today."

I glared at him. I was infuriated - the principal was exactly like the social workers I and others grew up hating. He didn't see a person who needed help in Alex. He saw a criminal and a burden on society. I left the office almost telling the principal off. I slammed the door on my way out.

I was still fuming as I drove erratically back to my office. Once I got there I looked over Alex's file again. I felt really helpless. There was nothing I could do and it was driving me crazy. I especially hated how the principal said I was young and inexperienced and the principal supposedly knew so much better. And how he acted like I was beneath him.

I propped my elbows on the desk – my head in my hands. I started remembering how when I was in college I thought I'd be helping people from my neighborhood out. I remembered my professor who also was from the poor side of town. Wait a minute, I thought, professor Owens told me not to hesitate to call him if I needed help. Professor Owens has friends in all kinds of places including the Board of Education. I hurriedly went through my billfold looking for professor Owens' card. I found it, and dialed the number right away. I was a little nervous calling him, but I really needed help.

"Professor Owens," I heard the voice on the other end of the line.

"Hi professor Owens, this is Ponyboy Curtis I've been a student of yours do you remember me?" I asked swallowing hard.

"Of course, of course I remember you Ponyboy. You were one of my best students what can I do for you?" He sounded like he was glad to hear from me and eager to help.

"Well, I'm sorry to bother you," I started, stumbling over my words a little as I spoke, "but I remember you telling me to call if I needed help."

"Sure, that's what I said, how can I help you Ponyboy?"

"Well, one of my patients is in reformatory here in Tulsa, but he's been acting up, starting fights, pulled a blade on one of the guards. They are transferring him to the Riverside reformatory." I said, and I'm sure professor Owens could hear the despair in my voice. I looked at the receiver in my hand like it was my last hope.

"Is that the reformatory in Oklahoma City?" professor Owens asked.

"Yes that's the one. He can't go. If he goes there is no chance of him having a normal life. I remember you said you have friends everywhere," I paused, "including the Board of Education" I added awkwardly. "Well, I thought if it's not too much to ask maybe you can ask your friends at the Board of Education to give Mr. Evans, the principal at the reformatory a call and tell him not to transfer my patient. If it's not too much trouble." I added, my voice quivering and I felt sweat dripping down my spine.

"Please calm down Ponyboy" the professor said simply "and don't worry about it. In fact I'm glad you called. The Riverside reformatory is reserved for those who can't be helped. I wouldn't want your guy go there. Consider it a done deal what's the guy's name?"

"Alex Moore." I almost whispered and exhaled in relief.

"Don't you worry Ponyboy he isn't going anywhere." The professor sounded really confident and that confidence rubbed off on me. "Oh thank you so much professor Owens, you don't know what this means to me."

"Glad to help." professor Owens said, "keep me posted on how everything goes." "Sure thing, bye now." If I was infuriated before, I was overjoyed now. I'll show this principal Evans who's the boss. What's with him rubbing it in that I was young and was just starting out.

On Friday I received a phone call from principal Evans. He sounded pretty mad.

"Hi," he said and got right down to business. "I have received a call this morning form the Board of Education telling me not to transfer Mr. Moore to Riverside reformatory, and what I was wondering is how on earth they even knew about Mr. Moore. Does this have anything to do with you not wanting him transferred?" The principal sounded furious.

I took a deep breath, but I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Here I was a rookie and the principal who was trying to rub it in that I was young and inexperienced now had to obey my decision.

"Yes, as a matter of fact it does. I've talked to some of my friends and I told them about Alex and what his deal is and they happened to agree with me that he shouldn't be transferred for which I'm very thankful. We will also enroll him in the program at the clinic, the one I told you about."

"You know I don't appreciate you going behind my back," the principal barked. "And I don't appreciate sending someone so young who has his whole life ahead of him away and ruining the rest of his life. Now when can I see my patient?"

There was an awkward pause on the other end of the line. "You can see him this afternoon." the principal finally said and hung up the phone without saying another word. That went well I thought hanging up the phone and smiling in spite of myself.

At around 3:00 p.m. I was at the office at the reformatory. In a little while Alex walked in. He took a seat and there was his usual facial expression whenever he met with me – indifference and boredom, but I noticed his appearance was disheveled and his eyes were red as if he was crying.

"So I heard you were going to be transferred to Riverside reformatory," I said trying to meet his gaze. Alex nodded barely acknowledging my presence.

"What's that to you?" I gave him a long look, God, he must hate me, I thought. I didn't know what to say so I just cut to the chase, "You are not going to be transferred." I said tiredly, not expecting much of a reaction from Alex. Alex looked up and there was disbelief in his eyes, "I am not?" He repeated mechanically leaning closer to the desk.

"No, and do you know why that is? Take a wild guess." I was really nervous talking to Alex. I hoped that once Alex realized it was me that got him to stay here and not be transferred he'd drop the attitude and would just talk to me.

"What ? You?" Alex asked swallowing hard, his eyes wide.

"Yes, me." For a moment he looked up at me and then, "Why?" he said bitterly, his voice hoarse. "You don't give a shit anyway." He said it like he didn't expect that from a social worker.

"Because I don't give up on people easily." I replied looking him right in the eyes. He was silent, but I could feel his curiosity was getting the best of him.

"How'd you do it?" He asked, "They were really set on shipping me over there."

"Let's just say I have connections." I smiled. Alex looked down.

"And I know something else," I continued, "I know you were a pusher before you got here." Alex's head snapped up, "How'd you know that?" That's the reaction I was going for.

"Like I said," I repeated smiling again, "I have connections." Now Alex looked plain scared. "Don't worry," I rushed to assure him, "I 'm not telling anyone, but I just want you to know that nothing gets past me."

"You really won't tell?" He asked his voice trembling, his face turning pale. I nodded. Alex gave me one long, stern look. Like he was testing me or something. "Why?" he said again bitterly through clenched teeth, "not that you care…" I was silent for a minute, looking over at him. After all he was just a kid, and I suspected that he was scared. I remembered myself when I was his age. The world can seem strange and complicated at that age. I remember how helpless we felt that our destiny and whether we could stay together depended on a single decision of social workers. We had no say in that, and they really didn't care.

I looked over at Alex again, he was staring at his lap. "That's where you are wrong I do care." I tried to sound as friendly and as convincing as I possibly could.

"Whatever," he said not looking at me, his voice trembling. He was trying to look tough, but I could tell that he was he was holding back tears. I was getting really emotional. "Hey," I said softly, "look at me please," He didn't move, just glanced up at me, and then looked down again.

"I'm here to help you and not judge you at all. I hope you can see that."

The expression on Alex's face was that of confusion. Like he didn't know how to act. He didn't know if he should keep his indifference and attitude or if he could actually talk to me.

Alex put his hands on the desk. He was wearing short sleeves, and I noticed something on his wrist. It looked like a mark or a scar. "What's this?" I asked looking at the mark. Alex realized his mistake. He quickly removed his hands from the desk and put them on his knees. "What is it?" I asked firmly, starting to get an idea. The mark looked like it was done by a burning cigarette. "Alex…" I gave him a meaningful look.

"It's nothing," he almost spat at me, contempt in his voice "none of your damn business," The expression on his face was that of bitterness and despair, and I could tell he was really struggling to keep it together."

"Is it someone in your family who did it to you?" - Silence.

"Is it your dad?" I persisted – More silence, but he really didn't need to say anything. It was pretty clear. He didn't have any brothers so that meant it was his dad. I was taken aback. Alex's file didn't say anything about domestic abuse, but now that I'd seen a mark from the cigarette I wondered if there was more.

"Your dad does he do other stuff?" I didn't expect an answer and I didn't get one, so I just continued. "Does he like rough you up a little, maybe hit you?" Alex was silent and still looking down so I couldn't see his eyes, then I saw his shoulders started shaking and I realized that he was crying. "He does," he said through tears, "all the time. He belts me and kicks me out of the house. I'd rather stay here than go back there." That was a revelation to me.

"I hate him," he sobbed, "and I hate what he does. I hate fighting, but I can't help it and start fights all the time. I don't mean to, it just happens and then they were gonna transfer me to Riverside and all," he was sobbing. "I never told anyone," he continued.

"Well," I said carefully, "there's no shame in asking for help." I instantly thought of Johnny, "Tell you what, I have a friend who went through what you are going through. Would you like to talk to him?" I couldn't even imagine what he was going through if he says he'd rather stay at the reformatory than go home, I hoped to God that him talking to Johnny would help.

"Ok." Alex said quietly, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

After my meeting with Alex I felt really bad. I was glad Alex was not being transferred and that I finally got through to him, but I was really shook up by what Alex told me about his dad. I hoped that Alex talking to Johnny would help.

On Saturday during the visitation hours Johnny and I were walking up the stairs at the reformatory entrance. I told Johnny all about Alex, and Johnny eagerly agreed to talk to him. We went to the visitation room, and the guard went and got Alex.

"This is my friend Johnny," I introduced him, "and this is Alex. Well, I'll leave you two alone to talk." With that I left, I didn't want to intrude on their conversation.

I was sitting in the lobby tapping my fingers waiting for Johnny. In about half an hour he finally entered the lobby. I got up from my seat and walked up and met him half way. "So how did it go?" I asked anxiously. Johnny looked shook up. I'm sure his memories about his abusive parents were still fresh even though he didn't live with them anymore. "Um…it went ok… I think." He said quietly. I pointed to the chairs. We sat down, and I waited for Johnny to start talking. "So what'd you tell him, man?" I asked desperately hoping that it really went ok. Johnny sighed – "As I thought he was blaming himself. Thought he was doing something wrong and that's why his dad hates him. So I told him it's not his fault. That his dad is the one messed up, not him."

"Did he believe you?" I asked apprehensively, leaning on the back of my chair.

"I'm not sure," Johnny said sadly, "I think he still has doubts. He was crying pretty hard. Told me he felt worthless and that he starts fights to prove to himself that he's worth something. I tried to explain to him that everyone's life is worth something."

I was overwhelmed with emotion, "I don't know how to thank you, Johnny. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you to talk to him." I said choking up a little.

"Are you ok, man?" Johnny put his arm on my shoulder.

I bit my lower lip, "I'm alright, Johnny, what else did he say?"

"After I told him that I used to think about killing myself, he admitted that he thought of suicide or running away, and I told him that you can find him a nice foster family so he doesn't have to suffer anymore." Johnny's big brown eyes were wide as he was looking at me, and I knew in his mind he was reliving his past with his parents. He cleared his throat and added, "I told him you were different, that you really cared. I think he believed me."

"I wouldn't bet on that." I said sarcastically considering how Alex didn't believe me when I tried to explain to him that I cared. In any case I had my work cut out for me. "Thanks Johnny," I said again and we got up and went to the car.


	12. Chapter 12

**Ok, here is the next chapter. Thank you everyone for reviewing and following/favoriting. I'm glad you are enjoying my story. Also I made Outsiders youtube video. I can't post the link here since fanfiction does not allow posting links, but if you go to youtube and search for Outsiders - Remember me, the video'll show up or look me up by user name - No tears in Heaven. Hope you'll look it up. Anyway, on with the story.**

The following Wednesday as I was having my afternoon coffee the phone rang. Why does it always have to ring when I'm on a break, I thought. I worked nonstop the whole day except for this short 10 minute break.

"Hello Ponyboy Curtis speaking," I said as I picked up the phone, putting my coffee mug aside. It was Taylor's P.O. Mr. Miller. "Taylor had run away," he informed me, "do you know anything about it? Had he mention something to you?"

"No, not a word." I said shocked. "Did something happen to make him do this?"

"Apparently his parents were going to sent him to some sort of boot camp to discipline him, and he just took off. I was hoping that maybe he said something to you."

"No he hadn't," I said feeling my stomach churn and cursing myself for not getting through to Taylor.

"When did it happen?" I asked next, tapping my fingers on the desk.

"His mother saw his note this morning. It said that if they wanted to send him away he was going away and that he hopes to never see them again. Those were his exact words."

"Shit," was all I said.

"The police was notified," the P.O. continued, "they issued an alert so the police will be on the lookout for him in the entire country. But we are going to search for him here in Tulsa. Hopefully he didn't get far yet."

"I'll be there," I said not hesitating even for a second. I wished I'd known about the boot camp maybe then I could've talked to Taylor or his parents and Taylor wouldn't run away.

"Ok meet me by his house, and we'll go from there." The P.O. said.

"Sure," I replied still processing what he just said. There was a pause then Mr. Miller said, "it's going to be ok, son."

"I hope so," I said hanging up the phone. "Dammit," I slammed my fist against the desk.

I met everyone at Taylor's house. "I'm Mr. Curtis, the social worker," I said to Taylor's parents, "we've met before."

"I remember," Mr. Williams said, and Mrs. Williams nodded. The parole officer was already there. Mrs. Williams had a tissue in her hand and was wiping her eyes repeatedly.

First we had to decide where to start the search.

"I know a bunch of abandoned buildings in this area," I said getting out of the house, "let's check there first." We went there, but only found a few homeless people. Mrs. Williams showed them Taylor's picture, and they said they haven't seen him. Next we went to the abandoned church. It was old and spooky with spider webs everywhere, but there was nobody there. The next places we checked were behind the railroad tracks, the bus station and then the junk yard. We went across town to different neighborhoods showing Taylor's picture to everybody. Nobody has seen him.

We met a bunch of elderly people in the park, playing chess. Mrs. Williams walked up to them and showed them Taylor's picture. They shook their heads, I could tell she was devastated.

By 11 p.m. we were exhausted.

We've searched the entire town with no result. Mrs. Williams got hysterical. "What if he got killed?" she sobbed. I didn't know what to tell her and I didn't know how to comfort her because deep inside I had the same fear. What if something happened to Taylor?

We checked a few more places and then started for home. Mr. Miller and Mr. Williams were walking ahead while I and Mrs. Williams were walking behind them. Mrs. Williams continued crying.

"Maybe we've been too hard on him," she said through her tears, "but he always had discipline problems. He's so stubborn and reckless and short-tempered just like his father. The two of them could never get along. They were like two stubborn bulls facing each other. Maybe Sam and I had a wrong idea. Anyway it was Sam's idea to send him to this boot camp, I was against it from the get go." She kept sobbing. I felt really bad for her.

"Please Mrs. Williams I know how you feel, but we'll find him. The police are searching for him, and not just in Tulsa or Oklahoma. They issued an alert across entire country. He'll turn up you'll see."

"Thank you," she replied through sobs, "for the support. You didn't have to do this."

"Don't' mention it. Please go home and get some rest."

We had searched for Taylor in Tulsa for a week and then figured he wasn't there. Finally in three weeks on a Friday I received a call from Mrs. Williams. She was crying and was really incoherent, but between the sobs she explained that Taylor was picked up in Missouri, where he lived on the streets begging for food. She needed to go pick him up. She said that her husband just got a new job and couldn't go and she didn't want to go alone. She was asking me to go with her.

"Sure," I agreed. I closed the file that I was working on, got my car keys and went outside.

"Thank you for doing this," Mrs. Williams said when I met her at the house. "No problem," I replied, "that's what I'm here for,"

"He doesn't listen to us maybe you can talk some sense into him." She said next.

When I and Mrs. Williams entered the police station the officers led us to the room where Taylor was sitting waiting to be picked up. Mrs. Williams started crying when she saw him. His hair was greasy and sticking out in every direction. He looked like he hadn't showered in weeks, he lost weight. His shirt had holes in it and his jeans were ripped at the knee. Even his face was smudged with dirt. You could tell he slept on the streets for the past three weeks. He was looking down when Mrs. Williams and I walked in, but when he finally looked up his eyes welled up with tears.

"Oh my God," Mrs. Williams was saying through tears, "why did you have to do this?"

"You were going to send me away anyway so I went away. What's that to you where I am?" Taylor said bitterly, crossing his arms.

"Oh Taylor," she cried and attempted to hug him, but he got out of her embrace. Then she turned to me – "Maybe you can talk to my husband, talk him out of this boot camp idea."

"Sure, I'll try." I said, feeling uneasy and like I might start crying too. That sure would look tuff I thought. I realized I simply must not start crying in front of Taylor. I was also wondering if Mr. Williams would actually listen to me, but I was willing to give it a try.

At this moment the officer peered into the room and told us that we should go.

Taylor was hesitant at first, but finally got up and walked to the exit.

"Are you really going to talk to him?" he asked me, disbelief in his voice.

"Sure, I wish you told me rather than ran away. I could've talked to him then" I replied. Taylor looked down, not saying anything.

The ride back was in silence interrupted only by Mrs. Williams sobbing.

"Sam will be home in about an hour," she said as we pulled up by the house, "so maybe you can stick around and talk to him." I felt awkward, but stayed.

"Would you like something to drink?" Mrs. Williams asked me.

"No, I'm fine thank you. You go do whatever you need to do don't pay me any attention." I said sinking down into the soft couch, looking out the window and trying to collect my thoughts and figure out what I should say to Mr. Williams so he listens to me.

While I was talking to Mrs. Williams, Taylor went straight to the kitchen and grabbed a plate of spaghetti with meatballs. I felt awkward once again. Taylor was downing the spaghetti and Mrs. Williams was looking at him ready to start crying again any moment.

"You better go wash up before your father gets home" she said to him. Without saying a word Taylor proceeded to take a shower. He didn't look like a short-tempered, stubborn kid that I knew. He looked different, younger, more scared.

Soon enough Mr. Williams got home. "Hi," he said to his wife, putting his briefcase on the floor, "is he here?"

"He's taking a shower," she replied. Then Mr. Williams proceeded to the room and noticed me. He looked at his wife question in his eyes. Before he had a chance to say anything, "May I have a word with you Mr. Williams?"I asked firmly, but trying to sound polite at the same time.

"Sure," Mr. Williams said reluctantly.

"Your wife told me you were going to send Taylor to a boot camp." Mr. Williams nodded, "I don't know how to discipline him. He got totally out of control. I leave it to the professionals to straighten him out."

"May I suggest you reconsider," I said getting up from the couch and facing Mr. Williams, who was standing in the doorway.

"Well your community service certainly isn't helping."

"It takes time," I replied, "but I think we can turn him around. I think this experience of living on the streets taught him a lot, and I think we are going to see a change in him, but sending him away will only make him more resentful. There's a program run by the state training for a mechanic job. I had suggested it to Taylor and I'm hoping now that he'd seen how it is to live on the streets he'll consider it. But I don't think sending him away is the solution. He must feel really strongly about it if he took such drastic measure as running away." I stopped talking and looked Mr. Williams right in the eyes. "Please, just give it a chance," I added.

"All right, all right maybe you are right I'll give it a month." Mr. Williams said. "But if nothing changes in a month I'm sending him to this boot camp. That's my final decision."

"Thank you so much Mr. Williams, I really appreciate it." I said, happy that I won this one.

At this moment Taylor entered the room. He was wearing clean clothes and was trying to fix his hair with his fingers.

"I better get going," I said walking towards the door. "See you in the office Taylor." Taylor didn't say anything but for a split second I saw tears well up in his eyes again, and I realized that Taylor didn't trust himself to speak.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks to everyone who is supporting this story, enjoy:)**

December rolled around the corner. It was snowing for the first time this season. We were going over to Soda for dinner. Jenna had bought a new winter coat for Emily. "Try it on, sweetie," she said to Emily holding up the coat. Emily walked up to Jenna and stood there awkwardly while Jenna proceeded to put the new coat on her. Then she took Emily's hand and walked her to the mirror. "Do you like it?" She asked softly. Emily seemed very pleased with what she saw in the mirror. Her facial expression changed, her eyes glistening and she gave Jenna a small smile, "Thank you," she said in a small voice. She grabbed her doll to take with her. The doll was also dressed in a coat that Jenna made for her from some scraps of fur that we had in the house. "Where are we going?" Emily asked next taking the coat off and walking into the living room.

"We are going to uncle Soda," I said looking up from the paper I was reading.

"Soda?" she asked confused. I chuckled, "you see he is my brother, and I am not the only one who has a funny name. His name is Soda." Emily smiled, "I see,"

"You are going to meet him and our friends and my other brother Darry has a daughter who is 5 years old, do you want to meet her?" I asked putting the paper aside and getting up from the couch where I was sitting and walking towards Emily. Emily looked apprehensive. "Don't worry about it," I ruffled her hair. "She's really nice you'll have fun playing with her". Emily didn't seem convinced.

We arrived at Soda's about 3 p.m. It snowed quite a bit – the ground was covered in snow, and Emily was making footprints in the snow and laughing. It was really nice out - a small breeze in the air and soft, fluffy snowflakes landing on my cheeks, lips and eyelashes.

We walked up to the door, and I rang the bell. Soda opened the door. He was wearing an apron, and a wide smile was plastered on his lips. His fiancée Tiffany also walked to the door and stood next to him. It smelled like hot chocolate and freshly baked cake in the room.

Emily grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly while looking down. "Hi guys," I said, stepping forward "meet Emily, Emily this is my brother Soda that I told you about and this is Tiffany," Emily was still looking down clearly intimidated. I was glad that the rest of the gang was not there yet. She would be overwhelmed to meet so many people at once. "Hi, Emily," Soda said in a really soothing voice, "don't be scared I don't bite," he smiled, and she looked up and smiled a little.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?" Soda asked next kneeling down so he was at her level. Emily looked at me as if asking if that was ok and I gave her a little nod, then she looked at Soda and nodded. We all sat down on the couch, and Soda walked into the room with hot chocolate for everyone.

Soon Darry and his family showed up. Ashley was dancing as she walked and singing some tune. Then she saw Emily and stopped, question in her eyes.

"So this must be Emily," Darry said walking up to her, "I am Darry. I am Pony's brother." Then before I got a chance to properly introduce Emily, Ashley stepped forward and said, "I am Ashley what's your name?" Ashley was definitely not a shy child unlike Emily.

"I am Emily," Emily replied quietly, her cheeks turning slightly red.

"I like your doll," Ashley said next, "what's her name?"

"Veronica."

"Can I play with her?" Emily looked hesitant for a moment and looked at me. I gave her a small nod again. Then she stretched out her arm letting Ashley grab the doll.

Soda's fiancée was finishing up cooking, and Soda and me volunteered to set the table.

"So how've you been?" Soda asked setting the plates and the forks. We haven't talked in a while, and now was a chance to catch up.

"Doing all right." I replied, carrying the glasses into the room "one of my patients ran away and it was a major pain but they found him and he is back home now. How are things at the DX?" I asked. Soda started telling me how good things were going for him. I was listening but I was watching Emily in the corner of my eye. Her and Ashley settled down on the floor near the couch and were playing with the doll.

"So they seem to get along pretty well," Soda said following my gaze at the girls. "I'm really glad they do," I replied relieved.

Soon the rest of the gang showed up. Each of them was introduced to Emily. She seemed to get over her initial shyness and was smiling at the guys and their girlfriends. I did notice though her shooting scared glances at Dallas. Dallas started to light up, but Soda gave him a meaningful look, "We have two kids in the room please take it outside." So Dal went outsider for a smoke.

When Two-bit showed up Ashley seemed no longer interested in playing with the doll. "Piggy back, piggy back Two-bit," she yelled getting up and running up to him.

"But I am not Two-bit," he replied in a mockingly low voice, "I am your horse." He ran up to Ashley and gave her a piggy back and started running around the room. Ashley was laughing uncontrollably. Then he finally set her down and started tickling her while she continued laughing. Then Two-bit turned to Emily, "you are next Ms. Emily," he said. She gave him a smile and stood up awkwardly. "C'mon climb up," Two-bit chuckled, bending his back so she could reach. She climbed up, and Two bit started galloping around the room. At first Emily seemed apprehensive. Then she giggled a few times, then she couldn't help it and started laughing.

"That's it," Two-bit encouraged, "that's what this old horse wants to hear." After a while he set her down and started tickling her. Then Ashley ran up to him and tugged at his sleeve – "my turn, my turn." At this moment Tiffany walked into the room. "Dinner's ready, please take a seat at the table."

During dinner we all talked trying to catch up on each other's lives. I was watching over Emily making sure she ate. She seemed to relax. I was sitting next to her on one side and Ashley was sitting next to her on her other side. Every now and then Emily would take a spoon of mashed potatoes and bring it to her doll's mouth as if she was feeding her.

After dinner Soda cut the cake for everyone, and Tiffany set a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table. "Made this morning," she smiled. Soda nudged me in the ribs. "What?" I turned around confused. "Made a bet this morning," he whispered "whose dessert is going to be eaten first – my cake or her cookies." "I better start on those cookies then." I chuckled. Soda gave me a warning look, "you know," he added with a grin, "I can still take you." I only laughed in response and took a slice of the cake. "That's better," Soda grinned again also taking a slice.

"I wish I had some toys for them to play with," Soda said to me as we were cleaning up after dinner. Then he went into another room and returned with markers in one hand and a notepad in another. "Do you girls like to draw?" he asked them. They both nodded. Emily was at ease by then, and it was clear that she was enjoying herself.

I was curious as to what Emily was drawing so I got up from my seat and walked over to her. "So what are you drawing missy?" I asked her playfully. She lifted up her sheet of paper. It had a woman and a man and a little girl. "Now is that me?" I asked pointing at the man in the picture.

"Yes," she replied thoughtfully, "and this is my mommy and she gave me to you," she said pointing at the woman and the little girl in the picture. I was ready to shed a tear but forced myself to keep it together.

"That's very pretty," I said swallowing the lump in my throat, "Can I keep it?" She nodded eagerly, tearing the page out the notepad and handing it to me.

Two-bit walked up to us, "How is it that I'm not in the picture? Now you two better draw me or else," he chuckled and Ashley giggled. Then he walked up closer to Ashley and said, "you two know I'm a magician right?" They both looked up at him in silence.

"Watch this," he ran his fingers through Ashley's hair and retrieved a quarter. She started at him with huge eyes. "Do it again," she demanded. He ran his fingers through her hair one more time, and retrieved another quarter, she giggled.

"Now you missy," he said to Emily, "you are hiding money from me too," he ran his hand behind her ear and retrieved a quarter. She was looking at him with sheer surprise and admiration. I was glad she adjusted well to my friends. I had been worried about how it all would work out.

Two-bit was going to show the girls more magic tricks, but Soda walked into the room – "who wants to go outside, we can try and build a snowman," he said turning to the girls. We got outside. The weather was great. The air was crisp and fresh and the trees looked beautiful – the branches covered in snow. Soda started to roll the snow for the snowman. But Ashley quickly made a snowball and threw it at Two-bit. It hit him on the chest on the left side where the heart is and left a mark on his jacket. He mock pretended hurt, placed his hand on his heart and then fell in the snow as if he was wounded. That seemed to please Ashley and she burst into laughter. "C'mon," she said to Emily, "let's make more." Two-bit got up and made a snowball and threw it at Ashley, making sure not to put much force into the throw so it wouldn't hurt her. Ashley made another snowball and gave it to Emily to shoot at Two-bit. Emily hesitated a minute and then threw it.

Johnny noticed what was going on, "Is he bothering you girls?" he asked with a grin walking up to them. Then he made a snowball and threw it at Two-bit.

"Hey Laura help," Two- bit yelled to Johnny's wife winking at her.

"Gladly," she replied. She made a snowball and threw it at Johnny laughing. He made two snowballs and threw one at Two-bit and one at Laura.

"Uncle Pony, help," Ashley yelled.

"Gladly," I chuckled. I made a snowball and threw it at Two-bit then the girls made a snowball each and threw it at Two-bit.

"Soda help," Two- bit yelled, but Soda was lost to the world. He was making a snowman. He had the two big snowballs for the body and was working on the head. Steve was looking for tree branches to use as hands, and Dally was standing by, smoking and watching Soda work and making smart remarks. Darry was standing next to his wife an amused smile on his lips. The rest of the women stood a little bit to the side talking about something, God only knows what.

Emily was really having a lot of fun I could tell. Her hair was loose in the wind and her cheeks got really pink and she was laughing a lot. She was making snowballs and firing at Two-bit so were Johnny, Ashley and me. Steve and Soda were done with the snowman and helped Two-bit firing snowballs at us. Finally Soda spoke up, "hey Ash, Emily check out the snowman." The girls stopped with the snowballs and walked up to the snowman. "It's tuff," Ashley said admiring Soda's work.

"Wait," Soda said all of the sudden, "don't' move." We all gave him puzzled looks, but he disappeared inside for a few minutes. When he got back he had a camera in his hands. We all stood by the snowman, and Soda took pictures. Then Darry took over so Soda could be in the shot. I was feeling relaxed and rested. I really needed this.

It was getting late, and everybody was saying their good-byes. Ashley gave Emily a hug, and Emily was smiling. It was so nice to see her relaxed and having fun.

"So did you like my friends?" I asked once we were in the car.

"I like Johnny, he's nice," Emily replied, and I chuckled. I swear kids and animals are drawn to Johnny.

"What about the rest of them?" I asked looking at her in the rearview mirror. She nodded, "especially Two-bit he's funny but Dally…" she paused and looked like she was contemplating whether to tell me or not. "What about Dally?" I prompted.

"He's a little scary." She managed. "Don't be scared of him, Em," I said, "he looks a little mean but he is a good guy" Jenna, who was sitting next to Emily in the back seat smiled, "you know," she said, "I was a little scared of Dally too when I first met him, but Pony is right once you get to know him you'll see he is a good guy."

"Did you like playing with Ashley?" I asked next.

"A lot," Emily replied smiling widely.

"Next weekend we'll have her visit us at our place so you can play with her again, would you like that?" She nodded.


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks to everyone who supported this story and a special thanks to milou03 for giving me the idea that Emiliy should call Ponyboy daddy, enjoy.**

Two months passed by. It was March and it was really beautiful weather most of the days. Spring was in the air. Taylor signed up for a mechanic program and was doing really well. He thanked me for talking his dad out of the boot camp idea.

I was working on Alex's case. His parents were placed under investigation and found unfit. Alex had to appear in court to testify, and I was proud of how well he handled the situation. After that I found a nice foster family for him here in Tulsa. So that's how things were at work. Tomorrow, however, was the most important day of my life – I was getting married.

The next day all the guys gathered in my apartment as I was getting ready for the wedding. Jenna and the girls including Emily and Ashley were all at Jenna's parents' house since the groom is not supposed to see the bride until she walks down the aisle.

I was really nervous my hands shaking as I was standing in front of the mirror trying unsuccessfully to tie my tie. I was wearing a gray tuxedo with a red carnation in the upper right pocket. Dally walked up to me by the mirror and cursed a blue streak for having to wear a tuxedo. He didn't wear one at Darry's wedding or even at Johnny's wedding, but I really insisted that he wore one for my wedding.

I let the tie go for a moment and took out a sheet of paper with my vows. I read through the words. I wrote this so shouldn't I be able to remember it, but that didn't seem to be the case.

"I can't do this," I confessed to Johnny, "I'm going to freeze and forget what I'm supposed to say."

"You'll be fine man," Johnny patted me on the back, "if you forget something just make something up on the spot. You are good at this what's with you always reading novels and poetry."

"How'd you do it how'd you go through this when you were getting married?" Johnny chuckled in response, "you'll live."

"Why don't you just read it stupid?" Steve piped in.

"No," I said firmly, "then it'll sound fake." I sighed, and my gaze fell upon a photo on one of the shelves. It was a photo of my parents, they were young and looked so happy. My eyes got misty, I wanted so much for them to be here to witness my special day.

"I can't believe you are getting married before me," Soda said as he walked up to the mirror where I was still struggling with the tie. I smiled at his remark. He proceeded to take a comb out of his pocket and started combing my hair to the side. "What a hell are you doing?" My hands flew to my hair.

"Just trying to make you look presentable." he chuckled.

"I never wear my hair like this," I said, swatting his hand with the comb and running my fingers through my hair to make it look the way I liked it. "The last thing I need is to look like a blasted pansy on my wedding day." I said reluctantly. Soda snorted, "Ok, ok," he put his hand up, "no need to get defensive 'm just trying to help."

"Here, this'll help," Two-bit threw a beer bottle at me, which was not a very good move because if I didn't catch it it would break and spill all over my tux. Luckily I caught it. I started to open the bottle. "This will calm your nerves," Two-bit said matter of a factly.

"Not on my watch," Darry snatched the bottle out of my hands just as I was about to take a sip. "The last thing we need is for him to get married drunk. That'll make him remember all those vows." he said sarcasm in his voice.

"Shoot," I frowned, "one bottle won't get me drunk." He realized I wasn't fourteen anymore and he couldn't order me around. So he didn't say anything just glared at me. That was enough though for me to cave in. "Fine," I said reluctantly, and he shook his head.

Dally was sitting on the couch smoking, but he looked like he was antsy. He got up and walked up to me, "are you still bugging with the tie?" I nodded frustrated. He looked like he wanted to hit me. "Here," he walked up to me from the front and did my tie in a second.

"Never thought I'd see the day Dal is wearing a tux," Two-bit chuckled. Dally gave him a warning look- "watch it Two-bit," he said glaring at him.

"Are we going yet?' Steve looked up from the car magazine and his gaze stopped on the mirror. "I look fucking ridiculous," he said.

Finally I was ready, and we left my apartment. I rented a Cadillac, didn't want to rent a limo because that would make me feel like a soc. We didn't have a chauffeur either. Steve couldn't wait to drive this one so we let him.

We pulled up to the church. Jenna picked it. It was in the middle class neighborhood close to her parents' house. It was beautiful inside. The ceiling was really high and chandeliers sparkled and shined in the bright light. All the windows were decorated with stained glass depicting scenes from the Bible.

We still had time before the guests started to arrive so the priest showed us to a room where we were supposed to wait until it was time to walk down the aisle. I took out the paper with the vows and was frantically repeating them in my mind.

"Relax man it'll be fine," Johnny patted me on the shoulder.

"Easy for you to say," I replied clutching the paper in my hands.

Finally we heard the music playing, which meant the guests started to arrive. We didn't have a lot of guests, and the ones we did were mostly on Jenna's side. I just had the guys, my uncle Nate from Iowa and a few of my coworkers. I also invited Alex, Taylor and Brian.

It was time to go down the aisle, and I was first. My heart was about to jump out of my chest. I was standing by the altar thinking that I was going to faint. Then the Mendelssohn's wedding march started playing and the groomsmen and bridesmaids started walking down the aisle. The girls looked beautiful wearing blue mermaid chiffon dresses, their hair up, and curled. The guys were looking sharp in their tuxedos. Then the best man and maid of honor walked – Johnny and Laura. Johnny smiled and winked at me as he was passing by and Laura gave me a wide smile. Then Emily who was the flower girl walked down the aisle. She was a little apprehensive, but she looked beautiful. She was wearing a white lace dress, which had a pleated skirt and her hair was up and there was a large pearl pin in her hair.

Then finally Jenna's dad walked her down the aisle. She looked beyond gorgeous – a white beautiful dress decorated with lace and pearls and a beautiful pearl necklace and a white beautiful veil over her head. But what was the most beautiful were her eyes. They were sparkling in the light and a few tears of joy rolled down her cheeks. Finally she stopped opposite me, and her dad stepped to the side.

I was on top of the world. I wanted to pinch myself to make sure this was real. The music stopped, the priest cleared his throat and began to speak. "Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to witness the union of Ponyboy Curtis and Jenna Samuel in holy matrimony..." The priest kept speaking, but I was unable to hear what he was saying. I felt dizzy and like I was going to faint. Finally there was silence. I looked up confused and saw Johnny's worried eyes on me. "C'mon man," he whispered. Then I realized it was time for me to say my vows. It took all the effort and strength not to let what I was feeling affect what I was saying. I took Jenna's hands and she looked at me with those beautiful eyes of hers.

I started to speak as my voice was quivering slightly: "Jenna, I choose you and I choose to stand by your side to learn with you and grow with you even as time and life will change us both. I promise to laugh with you in good times," I paused getting really emotional and not trusting myself to speak then I swallowed hard and continued, "and struggle with you in bad times, I promise to respect you and cherish you. I will always be honest with you, kind with you and I promise to love and care for you and will try in every way to be worthy of your love, I love you." I exhaled as I finished speaking. She squeezed her palms in mine and was blinking repeatedly trying to fight the tears that were starting to roll down her cheeks. She shot a quick glance at her dad, who was standing at the side, and he gave her a small nod. Then she controlled herself and began speaking. "I take you as you are- loving who you are now and who you are yet to become. I promise to listen to you and learn from you, to support you and accept your support. I will love you and have faith in your love for me, through all our years and all that life may bring us."

I was overwhelmed. This was really happening, this beautiful girl standing in front of me was going to be my wife. _My_ wife. I took her hand gently, and put the ring on her finger. She took my hand and looked me right in the eyes and smiled softly a beautiful smile and placed the ring on my finger.

The next words I heard were "I now pronounce you man and wife, you many kiss the bride." I squeezed Jenna's hands in mine and leaned closer and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. She looked at me and there was so much emotion in her eyes. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand – "oh, I'm a mess," she smiled through her tears.

"Me too," I replied.

Then there was a ceremony of lighting unity candle. It's when the couples' parents light up a candle each and then we, the newlyweds light up the third candle to symbolize that we are now one unit. I wished so much that my parents were there to do this. But since my dad wasn't here Darry lit up the candle instead. Jenna's dad lit up one as well, and then I took Jenna's hand and together we lit up the third candle. Then the music started playing again and we took our first walk as husband and wife down the aisle, followed y the groomsmen and bridesmaids.

The ceremony was over and everybody headed for the wedding hall. Jenna and me took Jenna's car while the guys took the Cadillac. On the way to the car I caught Johnny's gaze and he mouthed "you did great." I didn't think I did all that great, but I was thankful, it could be worse.

We arrived at the wedding hall. The room was humongous. It's good that Jenna's parents helped to pay for the wedding. I would never be able to afford it on my modest salary. There were tables pulled together forming a rectangle covered with a white table cloth with elaborate designs. There was red carpet leading from the hallway into the main area. There were candles lit up everywhere. There were fresh flowers on the tables. There was a table in front with a bouquet of at least a dozen red roses and next to them candles carved in the shape of the word LOVE. There was a stage, where the band was playing soft, calm music. Overall the place looked nothing short of magnificent.

Everybody was walking up to Jenna and me and congratulating us. Jenna's relatives and friends introduced themselves. To my surprise Brian brought a girl with him. They walked up to us, and Brian introduced her, "this is Leanne, my girlfriend." I was really happy for him. The change in him was drastic.

Finally everyone was seated, and the waiters started to bring out the food. Before I knew it Two-bit was on his feet. "A toast," he announced loudly. I tugged at his suit – "Two-bit isn't the best man supposed to go first?"

"That'll have to do," he chuckled, "'cause I'm first." Everybody was now looking at him, waiting for the toast.

"Well," he started, "I can't believe Pony is getting married, little Pony is getting married. I 'member him scrawny little kid with pimples who didn't know how to talk to a girl or what to do with a girl if you know what I mean," he smirked knowingly while my face was slowly turning red. "Who do you think taught him his game? That's right yours truly. So to Pony and Jenna cheers." Everybody raised their glasses, and Emily and Ashley raised their glasses with juice. I glanced at Darry. He looked amused by Two-Bit's toast. A lot of people were chuckling too. Leave it to good ol' Two-Bit to say something like that.

Then Johnny got up from his seat and started speaking. "Hello everyone, I am John, and today my best friend is getting married. I have known him for many years, and I couldn't wish for a better friend. I am very happy for him and let's raise our glasses to his and Jenna's love and happiness and their bright future together." Everybody clapped and raised their glasses.

A few of Jenna's relatives also said some toasts and then Darry started to speak. "Hello everyone," he said, "Today my baby brother is getting married. And even though he is not a baby anymore, he will always be a baby to me." I couldn't help it, but roll my eyes. "To love and happiness. And I am glad that someone so caring, loving and good as Jenna is in my brother's life."

As soon as Darry finished, Soda got up raising his glass. "To Jenna and Pony—I've never met a more perfect couple, and I doubt I ever will. You bring out the best in each other, cheers." I was on the edge of my seat anticipating what each of them was going to say and hoping they wouldn't embarrass me the way Two-bit did.

After Soda finished speaking Dallas got up from his seat. Oh no, I thought, this can't be good. "I've known the kid for a long time." He started, "Sometimes he could be annoying and a pain," way to start a toast I thought. Dallas cleared his throat and continued "but he's a good kid and Jenna is the best thing that had ever happened to him. You see I don't get all dressed up for just anyone, but when two people who are so in love tell me to put my fancy clothes on I do it." With that he raised his glass.

I thought the toasts were over, but to my surprise Brian got up. "I know Ponyboy for only few months, but in the few months he literally changed my life. I have never met someone so caring and understanding and willing to take a risk for my sake. I'm really glad I've met you, Ponyboy, and your lovely bride. I wish you the best, and I'm proud to share this day with you." I choked up a little, all the guys were saying nice stuff about me, even Dal.

After the toasts for a while everyone was eating and then it was time for the father of the bride speech. Jenna's dad was very emotional as he spoke. He talked about their bonding when she was a little girl and h how proud and happy he was for her on this day. Jenna was crying as he spoke and I shed a few tears too. A lot of people were wiping their eyes.

The meal was finished, and it was time to cut the cake. Soda was the one who made our cake. He felt a lot of responsibility having such an important task and he was apprehensive as to how it turned out. By the looks of it Soda really outdone himself. It was a five tier chocolate and red velvet cake. The first tier was chocolate the next red velvet the next chocolate again and so on. It was iced with vanilla butter cream and pink and white roses were piped all around the cake. I don't know where and when Soda learned how to pipe a cake, but it looked beautiful. On the top there were figurines of the groom and the bride holding hands. They were made out of rice crispy cereal and painted over.

The wedding planner announced the cutting of the cake, and handed me a huge knife. My hands were shaking slightly, and I was concerned that I wasn't going to be able to cut the cake nicely. Luckily I managed. I put the slice of the cake on a plate and carefully took a piece with the fork and started feeding it to Jenna. She did the same to me. The cake was delicious. In the corner of the eye I saw Two-bit standing with the crowd almost pouting waiting to try the cake. I couldn't help it but smile. Soon enough everyone got the cake. And no one could believe that it wasn't made by a professional baker when I told them Soda made it. In a way though he _is_ a professional. He's been baking since forever.

It was time for my and Jenna's first dance as husband and wife, and I took her hand and led her to the dance floor, while everybody got up from their seats and formed a circle around us. I was nervous. I practiced with Soda, who is a really good dancer, but I still wasn't that good. The song was "Can't help falling in love" by Elvis. We started gliding across the floor. Jenna wrapped her arms around my neck and my hands were around her waist tightly. I was trying my best, but I was messing up steps, and my legs were really stiff. To make things worse the floor was slippery, and I had difficulty maintaining my balance. Jenna was looking at me with an amused smile. All eyes were on me, and I felt really embarrassed. Good ol Two-bit realized what was going on. He winked at me, then got on the dance floor "and this is how you do it," he exclaimed and started moving with the music, twisting his hips the way Elvis did as he danced. Everybody's attention shifted from me to Two-bit, and people were laughing. I was really thankful.

Then it was time for the bride and her dad dance. I was watching them move across the floor, and I couldn't help it but feel sad that my parents weren't here. Next I was supposed to dance with my mom. I would give anything for them to be here right now. My facial expression must've been pretty sad, because Johnny, who was standing next to me, patted me on the shoulder and asked "are you ok man?"

"I am alright Johnny just thinking about…" I didn't finish the sentence,

"Yes, I know," Johnny said, "Mr. and Mrs. Curtis." I nodded.

"It's gonna be alright," he said in a soothing voice, "They are looking down on you. They are real proud of you man."

"I hope so, I really hope so," I sighed.

After the dance Jenna took the bouquet and went to the end of the room. All the girls followed her and stood at a distance behind her. She raised her arm preparing to toss the bouquet. Everybody was watching as the girls stretched their arms ready to catch the bouquet. Finally Jenna tossed it, and Michelle, Dally's girlfriend caught it.

"Hey, you are next man," Two-bit playfully punched Dally in the shoulder. Even though the light in the room was dimmed I could still see that Dallas paled. "I ain't never getting married," he scowled.

"Oh, C'mon man," Two-bit wiggled his eyebrows, "one of these days you'll get settled down."

"Speak for yourself," – Dally shook Two-bit's hand off his shoulder.

Next I was supposed to toss the garter. Dallas stood to the side, not where all the men who were trying to catch the garter were standing, but I decided to have some fun with it. I looked where Dally was standing and aimed right at him. The garter landed on his shoulder. He frowned and quickly shook it off his shoulder cursing. He looked terrified. I couldn't help it but snort. Everybody started laughing. "It ain't funny," Dallas scowled again.

"Actually it's pretty funny, Dal," Johnny chuckled, and Dally glared at him.

"What a hell?" Soda piped in shaking his head, "everybody is getting married before me."

The band started to play a slow song and couples started dancing. Emily and Ashley ran to the dance floor. "I'm going to dance on my daddy's feet," Ashley announced, grabbing Darry's hands and placing her feet on Darry's "right daddy?"

"Ok, ok," Darry chuckled and started moving with the music with Ashley on his feet.

"I'm going to dance on my daddy's feet too," Emily tugged at the bottom of my suit, "Can I daddy?"

"What'd you call me?" I was shocked in a good way. Her facial expression changed, "Sorry," she said in a small voice, she looked scared that she did something wrong "I meant "Pony." She quickly corrected herself.

"Don't be sorry, honey," I said softly and kneeled down to her level. "I'd love it if you call me daddy."

"You would?" she sounded unsure, but relieved.

"Yes," I stroke her hair gently.

"Me too," she smiled.

I picked her up and took her right hand and started moving with the music. She rested her head on my shoulder. I looked around – Jenna was looking at me and Emily and smiling softly. I was filled with gratitude, this was truly the happiest day of my life.

 **THE END**


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